ANNALS 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND, 


IN  1847,  1848,  AND  1849. 


BY  MES.  A.  NICHOLSON, 

author  of  "  Ireland's  welcome  to  the  stranger," 


NEW  YORK: 
E.  FRENCH,  135  NASSAU  STREET. 
1851. 


\ 

\ 


t 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

Object  of  the  work — General  Remarks  on  the  Condition  of 
Ireland  before  the  Famine — Coachman's  reasons  for 
Murder — Difficulties  of  writing  a  correct  work  on  Ire- 
land— Position  of  the  writer,  &c,      .       .       .  .13 


CHAPTER  II. 

Cup  of  Trembling — Irish  Housekeeping — Indian  Meal — 
First  News  of  the  Famine — Kind  Judge — First  Starv- 
ing Person,  and  Means  of  Preserving  him — Unexpect- 
ed Assistance  from  New  York — Joseph  Bewley — Soup- 
shop— Manner  of  carrying  Bread  through  the  Street — 
Cook-street  Labors  in  Dublin — Central  Relief  Commit- 
tee in  Dublin — Amount  of  Moneys — God's  Promises 
and  Dealings,    .  25 


CHAPTER  III. 

Stewards — Meal  from  New  York — Sacks,  and  Government 
Arrangements  for  Distribution  of  Meal — Donation 
from  Pauper  Children  of  New  York — Convent — Going 
to  Belfast — Doings  of  the  Women  there — Hirelings 
and  Voluntaries  —  Hon.  William  Butler — William 
Bennett — Mrs.  Hewitson  —  Visits  to  George  Hill  — 
Patrick  M'Kyes  Letter,  58 


X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PAGE 

George  Hill's  Movements  and  Success — Facts  of  Gweedoro 
— Visit  to  Dungloe  and  Arranmore — Mr.  Griffith — 
Sports  of  Children  gone — Roshine  Lodge — Return  to 
Belfast  by  Derry — Visit  to  Antrim — A  Cave — Return 
to  Dublin — Journey  to  Connaught — Mistake  in  Cha- 
racter of  a  Starving  Man — Misery  at  Newport — 
Orphan  Boy — Abraham  and  Sara — Sara's  Bed  and 
Burial — Abraham's  Death  and  Burial — Drinking  Hab- 
its— Moderate  Drinking  Clergy,        .       .       .  .93 

CHAPTER  V. 

The  Sound — Tour  to  Belmullet — Landlords — Tenantry — 
Walk  on  the  Sea-coast  —  Burying-ground  —  Ship- 
wrecked Sailors'  Burial  —  Manner  of  Burying  the 
Starving — Soldiers  of  Belmullet — Appearance  of  the 
People — Passport — Mr.  Cony — Samuel  Bourne — The 
Girl  of  the  Mountain — Miss  Wilson — Return  to  Bel- 
mullet— Scene  of  the  Cattle  Drivers,  and  Courage  of  a 
Boy — Letter  to  a  London  Friend — Return  to  t\\e  Sound 
— Dreadful  Storm — Drowning  of  Fishermen — Reading 
with  Servants — Achill — Bad  Management  of  Grants — 
Disposition  of  Children,  134 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Poorhouses,  Turnips,  and  Black  Bread,     ....  166 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Newport — Pulling  down  Houses — Mr.  Pounding — Gildea — 
Burial  at  Newport — Molly  Maguires,  &c. — Rebellion 
of  1848— Croy  Lodge  and  Ballina— The  Self-denying 
Child — Hunting,  and  Habits  of  a  Hunting  Lady — Visit 
to  Ballina — Hospitality  of  Peter  Kelly — Character  of 
Mr.  Kincaid — Captain  Short,  and  the  people  in  gene- . 


CONTENTS. 


xi 


ral  Leaving  the  Town — Stop  at  Ponton  and  Arrival  at 
Castlebar — Trial  for  Murder — The  Feelings  of  the 
Jury — Patrick's  Day — Widow  Fitzgerald — Visit  to 
Partra — Balinrcbe — Sense  in  the  Mountains — Old  Pa- 
rish Priest — Visit  to  Balinrobe — To  Cong — Industry  of 
the  Curate — Visit  to  Balinrobe  Workhouse— Old  Head 
— Distress  there — Louisburgh — Excursion  to  the  Xillery 
Mountains,  &c. — Excursion  to  Adelphia — Incidents — 
Good  Landlady — Shepherds — Romantic  Scenery — Re- 
turn— Rockery — Adieu — West  Port  and  Castlebar — 
Soup-shops — Soyers  Soup — Journey  to  Tuam — Chil- 
dren in  the  Convent — Happy  Results — Sad  Treatment 
on  a  Car — Arrival  at  Cork — Description  of  Cove  and 
Cork — Scenery  up  the  Lee — Deaths,  in the  Famine — 
Blarney — Castlemartyr — Potato  Blast — Spike  Island — 
Mathew  Tower— Letters,  179 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Grave  of  Charles  Wolfe — Water  Cure — Friends'  Funeral,  2G4 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Leaving  Cork — Passage  to  Dublin — New  Trials  there — Re- 
flections on  Past  Labors,  &c. — Last  Look  of  Ireland — 
Summing  up — Landlords — Clergymen — Relief  Officers 
— Going  out  of  Ireland,  320 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/annalsoffamineinOOnich_0 


THE  FAMINE  IN 


IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  Stript,  wounded,  beaten,  nigh  to  death, 
I  saw  him  by  the  highway-side." 

Those  who  have  read  the  volume  called  Ireland's 
Welcome ,  have  been  informed  that  I  left  New  York  in 
the  spring  of  1844,  for  the  purpose  of  exploring  and 
ascertaining,  by  eye-witness,#  the  real  condition  of  a 
people  whose  history  has  been  mixed  with  fable,  and 
whose  true  character  has  been  as  little  understood  as 
their  sufferings  have  been  mitigated. 

In  pursuing  this  work,  the  object  is  not  precisely  the 
same  as  in  the  preceding  one ;  that  was  but  the  surface 
— the  rippling  of  that  mighty  sea,  whose  waves  have 
since  been  casting  up  little  else  but  u  mire  and  dirt," 
and  whose  deep  and  continual  upheavings  plainly  in- 
dicate that  the  foundations,  if  not  destroyed,  are  fast 
breaking  up.  I  then  aimed  at  nothing  more  than 
giving  a  simple  narration  of  facts,  as  they  passed  under 
observation,  leaving  the  reader  to  comment  upon  those 


14 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


facts,  as  their  different  features  were  presented  to  the 
mind. 

Some,  and  possibly  many,  have  been  grieved  that  so 
much  "  plainness  of  speech  "  has  been  used  ;  but  here 
emphatically  4  4  flattering  titles  "  should  have  no  place  ; 
opiates  have  served  no  other  purpose  for  diseased 
Ireland  than  to  leave  undisturbed  the  canker-worm 
that  was  doing  more  effectually  his  deadly  work  within. 
44  Peace,  peace,"  where  there  is  no  peace,  eventually 
brings  down  the  chastenings  of  the  Almighty,  and  He 
has  shown  in  language  that  cannot  be  misunderstood, 
for  the  last  three  years,  that  He  sitteth  in  the  heavens, 
overturning  and  overturning  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
and,  in  his  own  due  time,  He  whose  right  it  is  to  rule 
will  rule.  The  stone  is  rolling,  and  its  velocity  in- 
creases as  it  proceeds.  The  potato  has  done  its  work, 
and  it  has  done  it  effectually  :  it  has  fed  the  unpaid 
millions  for  more  than  two  centuries,  till  the  scanty 
wages  of  the  defrauded  poor  man  have  entered  into  the 
44  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth,"  and  He  is  now  telling 
the  rich  that  44  their  gold  and  silver  is  cankered,"  and 
that  their  day  is  coming  speedily. 

We  are  gravely  told  that  the  year  1844  was  one  of 
great  abundance,  and  that  the  peasantry  were  then  a 
contented  and  happy  people  ;  but  listen  !  the  year  1844 
icas  a  year  of  abundance,  but  did  the  poor  man  share 
in  this  abundance — was  he  contented  and  happy? 
Why  then  was  the  whole  country  rocking  44  to  and  fro" 
with  the  cry  of  repeal?  and,  Why  was  O'Connell  in 
prison  1    Were  the  people  all  singing  in  their  chains, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  15 

not  feeling  the  galling  of  the  fetters,  till  he  aroused 
them  from  their  "  contented V  sleep  ?  Did  his  fiery 
breath  fan  up  embers  that  had  lost  all  power  of  life  1 
and  were  there  no  heartburnings  beneath  the  tatters  of 
the  degraded  cabiner,  that  strongly  prompted  to  make 
a  struggle  for  that  liberty,  which  God  has  by  birthright 
bestowed  upon  all  bearing  his  image  %  A  struggle  they 
would  have  made,  had  one  nod  from  the  prison  grates 
of  O'Connell  given  the  signal.  Though  there  was  no 
clamor,  yet  the  leaven  was  silently  leavening  the  whole 
lump,  and  they  appeared  anxiously  waiting  for  some 
event,  which  they  felt  must  come,  they  knew  not 
whence,  nor  cared  not  how. 

But  the  year  of  abundance.  From  June  1844  to 
August  1845,  I  visited  the  middle  and  southern  part, 
including  all  the  sea-coast,  always  on  foot  in  the  most 
destitute  regions,  that  I  might  better  ascertain  the  con- 
dition  and  character  of  the  peasants  in  their  most 
uncultivated  state.  What  I  then  saw  of  privation  and 
suffering  has  been  but  partially  sketched,  because  the 
"many  things"  I  had  to  say  the  world  was  not  then 
able  to  bear,  neither  are  they  now  able  to  bear  them 
all ;  but  posterity  will  bear  them,  and  posterity  shall 
hear  them.  Please  read  the  partial  sketch  of  Bantry, 
Glengariffe,  and  the  sea-coast  of  Kerry,  given  the  years 
1844-5,  and  enter  into  some  floorless,  dark,  mud  cabin, 
and  sit  down  upon  a  stool,  if  haply  a  stool  be  there, 
and  witness  the  "  abundance  "  of  those  happy  fertile 
days.  Again  and  again  did  I  partake  of  a  scanty  meal 
of  the  potato,  after  a  day's  walk  of  miles,  because 


16  ANNALS  OF  THE 

I  knew  a  full  repast  would  deprive  the  family  of  a  part 
of  the  supply  in  reserve  for  the  meal,  which  by  multi- 
tudes was  then  taken  but  once  a  day. 

Mark !  these  are  not  isolated  cases,  but  everywhere 
in  the  mountainous  regions,  upon  the  sea-coast,  and  in 
the  glens ;  from  Dublin  to  the  extreme  south  did  I 
daily  meet  these  facts.  Nor  was  this  privation  of 
short  continuance  :  from  Christmas  to  harvest  the  poor 
peasant  must  stint  his  stomach  to  one  meal  a  day,  or 
his  seed  for  the  coming  crop  would  be  curtailed,  and 
the  necessary  rent-payer,  the  pig,  not  be  an  equivalent 
to  keep  the  mud  cabin  over  the  head  of  his  master. 

So  much  for  "abundance;"  now  for  "content." 
That  there  was  an  unparalleled  content,  where  any- 
thing approached  to  tolerable  endurance,  cannot  be 
denied,  but  this  was  their  religious  training ;  however 
imperfect  their  faith,  and  practice  may  be,  in  patience 
they  have,  and  do  exemplify  a  pattern  which  amounts 
almost  to  superhuman.  "  We  must  be  content  with 
wThat  the  Almighty  puts  upon  us,"  was  their  ready 
answer  when  their  sufferings  were  mentioned ;  yet  this 
did  not  shut  their  eyes  to  a  sense  of  the  sufferings 
which  they  felt  were  put  upon  them  by  man,  and  their 
submission  seemed  in  most  cases  to  proceed  from  the 
requirements  of  the  Almighty,  rather  than  from  igno- 
rance of  their  wrongs  ;  for  in  most  instances  the  parting 
question  would  be,  "  Don't  ye  think  the  government  is 
too  hard  on  us ;  or  do  ye  think  we  shall  ever  git  the 
repale,  and  will  Ireland  ever  be  any  better,"  &c.  That 
they  are  a  happy  people  so  long  as  any  ray  of  hope 


INTRODUCTION 


TO  THE  AMERICAN  EDITION. 


Mrs.  Asenath  .Nicholson,  the  author  of  the  fol 
lowing  pages,  is  a  native  of  Vermont,  where  she  is 
extensively  known,  (by  her  maiden  name  of  Hatch,) 
as  an  able  teacher.  She  is  also  widely  known  as  for 
many  years  the  keeper  of  a  boarding  house  in  this  city, 
(on  the  Vegetarian  principle,)  which  used  to  be  the 
resort  of  hundreds  of  choice  spirits  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  including  most  of  the  names  of  those  who 
were  engaged  in  measures  of  social  reform.  She  is  a 
woman  of  great  acuteness  of  intellect,  and  of  the  most 
self-sacrificing  benevolence,  with  great  independence  of 
mind  and  force  of  character. 

Her  visits  to  Ireland  and  labors  there  are  but  the 


iv  INTRODUCTION. 

workings  of  her  character  ;  and  those  who  are  best 
acquainted  with  her  wonder  neither  at  her  courage  nor 
at  her  adventurous  and  untiring  charity. 

Her  first  work  on  Ireland — "  The  Stranger's  Wel- 
come," narrates  her  travels  and  observations  prior  to 
the  Great  Famine  of  1847.  It  was  republished  in 
this  city  some  years  ago.  The  present  work  recites 
some  of  the  scenes  which  she  witnessed  during  that 
calamitous  season.  Her  heart  was  in  a  continual 
agony,  and  her  limbs  wearied  by  incessant  toils  to  re- 
lieve if  it  could  be  only  a  small  part  of  the  misery  she 
witnessed.  In  answer  to  appeals  on  her  behalf,  some 
funds  were  placed  at  her  disposal  from  this  country,  by 
friends  who  knew  how  effectively  they  would  be  em- 
ployed in  her  hands.  The  tale  of  woe  should  be  read 
by  the  whole  American  people  ;  it  will  have  a  salu- 
tary effect  upon  their  minds,  to  appreciate  more  fully 
the  depth  of  oppression  and  wretchedness  from  which 
the  Irish  poor  escape  in  coming  to  this  land  of  plenty. 

For  the  sake  of  giving  a  wider  circulation  to  the 
material  facts  of  the  Famine  and  its  effects,  the  Ameri- 
can publisher  has  thought  it  advisable  to  omit  some 
chapters  which  were  contained  in  the  English  edition, 


INTRODUCTION.  V 

giving  a  history  of  Ireland  from  the  conquest  by  Henry 
II.  of  England  ;  as  this  information  can  be  obtained  in 
other  works. 

J.  L. 

New  York,  April,  1851. 


PREFACE. 


The  reader  of  these  pages  should  be  told  that,  if 
strange  things  are  recorded,  it  was  because  strange 
things  were  seen ;  and  if  strange  things  were  seen 
which  no  other  writer  has  written,  it  was  because  no 
other  writer  has  '  .sited  the  same  places,  under  the 
same  circumstances.  No  other  writer  ever  explored 
mountain  and  glen  for  four  years,  with  the  same  ob- 
ject in  view ;  and  though  I  have  seen  but  the  suburbs 
of  what  might  be  seen,  were  the  same  ground  to  be 
retraced,  with  the  four  years'  experience  for  an  hand- 
maid, yet  what  is  already  recorded  may  appear  alto- 
gether incongruous,  if  not  impossible.  And  now, 
while  looking  at  them  calmly  at  a  distance,  they  ap- 
pear, even  to  myself,  more  like  a  dream  than  reality, 
because  they  appear  out  of  common  course,  and  out 
of  the  order  of  even  nature  itself.  But  they  are 
realities,  and  many  of  them  fearful  ones — realities 
which  none  but  eye-witnesses  can  understand,  and 
none  but  those  who  passed  through  them  can  feel. 


viii 


PREFACE. 


No  pretensions  to  infallibility  either  in  judgment  or 
description  are  made — the  work  is  imperfect  because 
the  writer  is  so — and  no  doubt  there  are  facts  recorded 
which  might  better  have  been  left  out.  In  such  a  con- 
fused mass  of  material,  of  such  variety  and  such 
quality,  I  am  not  so  vain  as  to  suppose  that  the  best 
has  always  been  selected  or  recorded  in  the  best  way. 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


17 


remains,  or  when  they  share  in  common  the  gifts  of 
Providence,  must  be  allowed  ;  yet  their  quick  perception 
of  justice  often  manifests  itself,  where  any  loop-hole 
is  made  which  promises-  amendment  to  their  condition, 
and  when  the  flickering  spark  of  life  is  kindled  within 
them.  They  have  committed  bold  and  wicked  acts, 
which  revenge  prompted  by  a  sense  of  injustice  alone 
would  do.  Justice  long  withheld,  and  oppression  mul- 
tiplied proportioned  to  uncomplaining  endurance,  some- 
times awakes  to  a  boldness  almost  unequaled  by  any 
but  the  savage  of  the  wilderness ;  nor  do  they  wait  for 
the  night,  or  seek  any  other  concealment,  than  to  make 
sure  of  their  prey — they  care  not  who  sees  them,  or  on 
what  gallows  they  are  hung,  if  the  hated  victim  be  out 
of  the  way. 

M  Hark  !  from  yon  stately  ranks  what  laughter  rings, 
Mingling  wild  mirth  with  wars  stern  minstrelsy. 
His  jest — while  each  brave  comrade  round  him  flings, 
And  moves  to  death  with  military  glee. 
Boast,  Erin !  boast  them  tameless,  frank  and  free, 
In  friendship  warm,  and  cool  in  danger  known, 
Rough  Nature's  children,  humorous  as  she. 
And  he,  great  chieftain,  strike  the  proudest  tone 
Of  thy  bold  harp,  green  Isle,  the  hero  is  thine  own." 

Seldom  do  they  murder  for  money,  and  in  no  country 
where  oppression  has  ruled  have  the  oppressed  plun- 
dered and  robbed  so  little  as  in  Ireland,  yet  they  can 
plunder  and  rob ;  and  these  crimes  are  multiplying  and 
will  multiply  till  a  new  state  of  things  places  them  in  a 
different  condition. 

I  was  riding  upon  a  coach  in  the  second  year  of  the 


18 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


famine,  in  a  lonely  part  of  the  west,  when  the  coach- 
man pointed  me  to  a  corner  around  the  wall,  and  re- 
marked, "  When  I  passed  this  place  to-day,  a  man  lay 
dead  there  who  had  been  killed  some  hours  before  by 
one  of  the  tenants  living  upon  the  land  here."  "  Why 
did  he  do  the  shocking  deed  V9  I  inquired.  "  A  good 
deed,  by  dad,"  was  the  answer.  "  Why  lady,  he  was 
the  greatest  blackguard  that  ever  walked  the  airth ;  he 
was  agent  to  a  gentleman,  and  he  showed  no  mercy  to  a 
poor  man  that  was  toilin'  for  the  potato  ;  but  as  soon 
as  the  famine  was  sore  on  the  craturs,  he  drove  every 
one  into  the  blake  staurm  that  could  not  give  the  rent, 
and  many's  the  poor  bein'  that  died  with  the  starvation, 
without  the  shelter;,  and  wouldn't  ye  think  that  such 
a  hard-hearted  villain  better  be  dead,  than  to  live  and 
kill  so  many  poor  women  and  helpless  children,  as 
would  be  wanderin'  in  the  black  mountains  this  winter, 
if  he  should  live  to  drive  'em  there."  Now,  this  is 
certainly  unchristian  logic,  but  it  is  resentful  nature's 
logic,  and  in  accordance  with  all  the  principles  of 
national  killing.  In  vain  I  preached  and  held  up  a 
better  principle — "  A  great  good  had  been  done  to  all 
the  parish,  and  all  the  parish  should  be  glad  that  so 
many  lives  had  been  saved  by  this  one  which  had  been 
taken." 

It  was  night,  and  I  felt  a  little  relief  when  a  police- 
man ascended  the  coach,  who  was  going  in  quest  of  a 
coroner ;  a  sad  deed,  he  added,  but  the  murdered  man 
was  hard-hearted,  and  no  doubt  that  it  was  some  of  the 
tenants  on  the  land  of  which  he  was  agent  who  did  the . 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  19 

work,  yet  not  one  has  escaped.  "  And  why,"  retorted 
the  driver,  "  should  a  hap'orth  of  'em  take  up  the  heel ; 
they  have  done  a  good  deed,  and  if  they're  hung,  it  will 
be  better  than  the  starvation."  The  policeman  was 
silent,  and  I  was  not  anxious  to  pursue  the  fruitless 
argument  with  one  who  saw  no  light,  but  through  the 
medium  of  doing  unto  others  as  others  do  to  him.  And 
where  this  principle  prevails,  as  it  does  in  the  hearts  of 
all  the  unsanctified,  the  wonder  is  that  so  few  have 
been  the  lawless  deeds  that  have  been  transacted  in 
that  oppressed  country  for  centuries  gone  by.  The 
mischief  is  all  laid  at  the  door  of  the  Papists  ;  and  when 
I  speak  of  the  Christianity  of  Ireland,  I  would  do  it 
with  caution — I  would  not  u  hurt  the  oil  or  the  wine," 
— I  would  not  "judge  nor  set  at  naught  my  brother," 
— but  I  would  say  deliberately  and  conscientiously,  that 
if  those  who  call  themselves  the  only  true  light  of  that 
benighted  land,  the  only  safe  lamps  to  guide  to  the 
heavenly  country,  were  more  careful  to  show  mercy  and 
walk  humbly,  they  might  long  ago  have  seen  a  better 
state  of  things.  Yes,  had  Bible  men  and  Bible  women 
possessed  that  love  in  heart  which  has  been  upon  the 
tongue,  had  they  manifested  that  tenderness  for  Christ, 
as  they  have  for  a  party,  a  name,  or  a  church ;  had 
they  been  as  assiduous  to  win  souls  to  Christ  by  love 
and  kindness,  as  they  have  to  gather  in  their  tithes  by 
law  and  violence,  many  who  are  now  scoffing  at  a 
u  truth  held  in  unrighteousness,"  might  have  been 
glorying  in  one  producing  holiness  and  peace.  But  I 
forbear  :  "  murder  will  out,"  wrong  will  be  righted, 


2Q 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


however  painful  -the  process,  and  though  judgment  long 
delay,  yet  it  must  come  at  last ;  the  wheel  of  Provi- 
dence is  ever  rolling,  and  every  spoke  belonging  to  it 
must  in  turn  be  uppermost,  and  the.  oppressed  cannot 
always  be  at  the  bottom. 

The  object  of  this  volume  is  to  place  before  the 
world  a  plain  and  simple  outline  of  what  is  called  the 
Famine  of  Ireland,  in  1846-7-8-9. 

But  before  I  take  the  reader  down  the  sides  of  this 
dreadful  gulf,  before  I  uncover  to  him  the  bowels  of 
that  loathsome  pit,  on  the  margin  of  which  he  often 
may  have  tremblingly  stood,  I  will  gird  up  his  mind  for 
the  conflict,  by  taking  him,  in  the  autumn  of  1845,  and 
the  spring  of  1846,  through  the  more  fertile  and  happy 
north,  where  we  are  told  that  better  management  has 
produced  better  results  ;  there  we  shall  find  mementos 
of  deep  interest,  when,  ages  now  passed  away,  this 
people  stood  out  to  surrounding  nations  not  as  a  "  by- 
word and  hissing,''  but  as  a  noble  example  of  religion, 
industry,  and  prosperity,  which  few  if  any  could  then 
present.  And  though  its  early  history  is  quite  ob- 
scured by  fiction,  and  interlarded  with  poetical  romance, 
yet  all  this  serves  to  prove  that  the  remains  of  a  true 
coin  are  there,  or  a  counterfeit  would  not  have  been 
attempted. 

Not  only  in  the  north,  but  scattered  over  the  whole 
island,  are-  found  inscriptions  on  stone,  some  standing 
above  ground  and  ethers  buried  beneath,  which,  by 
their  dates  and  hieroglyphics,  tell  you  that  centuries 
*     ago  men  lived  here,  whose  memories  were  honored,  not 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


21 


only  for  their  valor  in  war,  but  for  their  purity  of  life. 
It  was  not  till  I  had  faithfully  explored  the  interior 
and  southern  coast,  that  the  early  history  of  this  people 
had  been  much  studied  ;  as  my  object  then,  was  to  see 
them  as"they  are  found  in  the  nineteenth  century,  with- 
out investigating  particularly  their  age  or  pedigree. 
In  my  later  excursions  facts  so  startled  and  convinced 
me  that  their  pretensions  to  former  prosperity  and 
greatness  were  not  fabulous,  that  I  regretted  for  my 
supineness  on  the  subject ;  for  I  found  by  well  authen- 
ticated history,  that  the  common  saying  among  the  peas- 
antry that  Ireland  was  once  "  a  land  of  saints,"  was 
founded  in  more  truth  than  her  enemies  or  even  friends 
are  ready  to  acknowledge  ;  and  the  belief  is  quite  con- 
firmed in  my  mind,  that  when  searching  for  truth  con- 
cerning a  nation  "  scattered  and  peeled,"  as  the  Irish 
have  been,  the  true  ore  can  better  be  found  in  the  un- 
polished rubbish,  in  the  traditions  of  a  rude  nation, 
retained  from  age  to  age,  than  among  the  polished  gems 
of  polite  literature,  written  to  please  rather  than  in- 
struct, and  to  pull  down  rather  than  build  up. 

It  has  never  been  my  lot  to  meet  with  a  straight- 
forward, impartial,  real  matter-of-fact  work,  written  on 
that  devoted  country,  till  since  the  famine  commenced. 
It  has  been  suggested  that  an  Irishman  could  not  write 
an  impartial  book  on  his  country,  and  an  Englishman 
or  Scotchman  would  not. 

The  last  three  years  have  abundantly  proved,  that 
there  are  many  Englishmen,  who  can  not  only  feel,  but 
act  for  that  poor  despised  island,  who  would  rejoice 


22 


ANNALS  OF  Tilt 


to  see  her  rise,  yes,  who  would  and  do  take  her  by  the 
hand,  -who  not  only  talk,  but  make  sacrifices  for  her 
welfare  ;  and  let  me  record  it  with  gratitude,  that  pos- 
terity may  read  the  efforts  they  have  made  and  are 
still  making,  to  place  this  down-trodden  people  among 
the  happiest  nations  of  the  earth.  Gladly  would  I 
record,  were  the  privilege  allowed  me,  the  names  of 
those  Quakers,  those  Dissenters  of  all  denominations, 
and  many  of  the  Churchmen  too,  who  have  done  much 
in  the  days  of  darkness,  for  the  starving  poor  of  that 
land  ;  yes,  let  me  record  as  a  debt  of  gratitude  I  owe 
to  England,  the  scenes  I  have  witnessed,  when  some 
box  of  warm  clothing  was  opened,  when  the  naked, 
starving  women  and  children  would  drop  upon  their 
knees,  and  clasp  their  emaciated  fingers,  and  with  eyes 
raised  to  heaven,  bless  the  Almighty  God  for  the  gift 
that  the  kind  English  or  blessed  Quaker  had  sent 
them ;  and  while  I  was  compelled  to  turn  away  from 
the  touching  view,  my  heart  responded  Amen  and 
Amen.  Let  this  suffice,  that  when  in  these  future 
pages  truths  may  be  recorded  that  will  not  always  be  so 
salutary,  yet  be  assured  these  truths  are  such  as 
should  be  told,  and  they  will  not  meet  any  cases  men- 
tioned in  the  above — in  other  language,  they  will  not 
fit  where  they  do  not  belong. 

My  position  in  regard  to  the  condition  and  feeling 
of  Ireland  during  the  famine,  was  different  from  all 
others  ;  I  must  necessarily  look  at  things  with  different 
eyes,  and  different  sensations  from  what  others  could 
do ;  I  was  a  foreigner,  could  not  expect,  and  did  not 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


23 


ask,  any  reward  either  in  praise  or  money  for  the  in- 
terest I  might  take  in  that  country  ;  I  was  attached  to 
England,  as  the  race  from  which  I  descended,  and 
pitied  Ireland  for  her  sufferings,  rather  than  I  admired 
her  for  any  virtues  which  she  might  possess  ;  conse 
quently,  my  mind  was  so  balanced  between  the  two, 
that  on  which  side  the  scale  might  have  preponderated, 
the  danger  of  blind  partiality  would  not  have  been  so 
great. 

Besides,  the  country  had  previously  been  traversed, 
the  habits  and  propensities  of  the  cabiners  been  studied, 
they  had  been  taken  by  surprise  when  no  opportunity 
was  given  for  escape  or  deception.  I  was  always  an 
unexpected  guest,  and  gave  them  no  time  to  brush  up 
their  cabins,  or  put  on  their  shoes,  if  happily  they 
might  have  any.  When  the  famine  came  over  them, 
they  were  placed  in  a  different  position  to  draw  out 
their  feelings  toward  others,  and  the  pangs  of  hunger 
induced  them  necessarily  to  act  unreservedly ;  all  party 
feeling  was  lost,  and  whoever  gave  them  bread  was  the 
object  to  which  they  most  closely  hung,  and  to  those 
who  rudely  sent  them  empty  away,  the  answer  was  often 
made,  "  May  the  blessed  God  never  give  ye  to  feel  the 
hunger." 

And  here  it  must  be  written  that,  though  some  might 
be  ungrateful,  yet  such  were  the  exceptions;  as  a 
people  they  are  grateful,  and  patient  to  a  proverb. 
Not  a  murmuring  word  against  God  or  man  did  I  once 
hear  among  all  the  dying,  in  those  dreadful  days,  and 
the  children  were  taught  by  parents  and  teachers  to 


24 


THE  FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


fall  on  their  knees  morning  and  evening,  to  pray 
Almighty  God  to  "  bless  their  kind  benefactors  and 
keep  them  from  the  hunger,"  and  many  have  died 
with  these  prayers  on  their  lips.  I  must  not  enlarge  ; 
these  things  are  not  mentioned  to  probe  afresh  the 
painful  sensations  which  philanthropists  have  felt  for 
Ireland,  but  to  bear  a  testimony  to  facts,  which  deserve 
to  be  recorded ;  and  should  any  of  these  facts  appear 
exaggerated,  let  it  be  said  that  no  language  is  adequate 
to  give  the  true,  the  real  picture  ;  one  look  of  the  eye 
into  the  daily  scenes  there  witnessed,  would  overpower 
what  any  pen,  however  graphic,  or  tongue,  however 
eloquent,  could  portray. 

As  my  eye  was  single  to  one  object,  as  I  have  ever 
peculiarly  felt  that  I  was  acting  for  eternity,  in  acting 
for  Ireland,  the  candor  I  use  must  be  forgiven,  and 
the  pronoun  I  can  make  no  other  apology  but  sheer 
necessity,  as  no  we  had  a  part  in  anything  essential 
which  will  be  recorded  in  these  pages. 

When  the  hand  that  pens  these  pages,  and  the  heart 
that  has  been  lacerated  at  these  sufferings,  shall  have 
ceased  together,  may  Ireland  and  her  benefactors  "  live 
before  God." 


CHAPTER  II. 


"  Afar  we  stand,  a  gloomy  band, 
Our  worth,  our  wants  neglected, 
The  children  in  their  fatherland 
Cut  off,  despised,  rejected." 

Allow  ine  to  say  to  the  reader,  that  the  cup  I  now 
hold  in  my  hand  is  a  "  cup  of  trembling,"  and  gladly 
would  my  sickening  heart  turn  away  from  its  contents, 
"but  'for  this  cause  was  I  sent,'  and  the  cup  which 
my  Father  has  given  me  shall  I  not  drink  it?"  Yes, 
for  this  cause  was  I  sent ,  for  this  cause,  in  the  face  of 
all  that  was  thought  consistency  or  prudence,  unpro- 
tected by  mortal  arm  or  encouraged  by  mortal  support, 
was  I  bidden  to  go  out,  and  to  go  46  nothing  doubting" 
into  a  strange  land,  and  there  do  what  I  should  be 
bidden,  not  knowing  what  that  might  be  nor  inquiring 
wherefore  the  work  were  laid  upon  me. 

I  came,  the  island  was  traversed,  stormy  days  and 
dark  nights,  filthy  cabins  and  uncomfortable  lodging- 
houses  were  my  lot,  evil  surmises  from  the  proud  pro- 
fessor, and  the  cold  neglect  of  many,  were  all  alike  to 
nie ;  the  "  tower"  into  which  I  ran  was  always  safe 
and  always  open,  the  "  rock"  under  which  I  sheltered 
was  indeed  "  higher  than  I,"  and  the  tempest  passed 
harmlessly  by. 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


From  June  1844  to  December  1840,  though  I  could 
say  with  the  disciples  returning  from  Emmaus,  that 
"  my  heart  burned  within  me,"  yet  with  them  I  must 
add,  my  "eyes  were  holdcn,"  that  I  had  not  yet  seen 
the  ultimate  object,  nor  had  the  slightest  curiosity  been 
awakened  as  to  the  result  of  the  researches  which  had 
been  made,  who  would  understand  or  misunderstand, 
who  would  approve  or  condemn.  Ireland's  pride  and 
Ireland's  humility,  her  wealth  and  her  poverty,  her 
beauty  and  deformity,  had  all  been  tested  in  a  degree, 
and  the  causes  of  her  poverty  stood  out  in  such  bold 
relief,  that  no  special  revelation,  either  human  or 
divine,  was  requisite  to  give  a  solution. 

"  Will  not  God  be  avenged  on  such  a  nation  as  this  V9 
was  the  constant  question  urging  me,  and  the  echo  is 
still  sounding  as  the  mighty  wave  is  now  roiling  over 
the  proud  ones  who  have  "  held  the  poor  in  derision,5' 
and  the  only  answer  is,  "  What  will  ye  do  in  the  end 
thereof?"  What  avails  the  multiplicity  of  prayers 
while  the  poor  are  oppressed  1  The  surplice,  the  gown, 
or  the  robe  will  not  hide  the  stain ;  the  "  leprosy  lies 
deep  within."  "For  all  this  his  anger  is  not  turned 
away,  but  his  hand  is  stretched  out  still." 

Too  long  have  ye  "  dwelt  in  your  ceiled  houses," 
while  the  poor,  who  have  "  reaped  down  your  fields  for 
naught,"  have  been  sitting  in  their  floorless,  smoky 
cabins,  on  the  scanty  patch  where  they  have  been  al- 
lowed to  crouch,  till  your  authority  should  bid  them 
depart,  to  eat  their  potato  on  some  bog  or  ditch  else- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


27 


where.  And  more  fearful  than  all,  now  that  the  root 
on  which  you  have  fed  them  for  centuries  is  taken 
away ;  famished  and  naked  you  drive  them  into  the 
pitiless  storm.  Ye  withhold  from  them  labor,  and  then 
call  them  "  idle ;"  ye  give  them  work  without  any  just 
equivalent,  and  then  cry  out  when  the  scanty  food  is 
blasted,  "  Improvidence  ^  Improvidence  /" — that  had 
these  "  idlers'5  put  by  anything  for  a  "  rainy  day," 
they  might  have  had  money  to  have  bought  bread ! 
That  idleness  and  improvidence,  (which  are  generally 
companions,)  are  two  great  evils  of  Ireland,  must  be 
acknowledged.  The  rich  are  idle  from  a  silly  pride 
and  long  habits  of  indulgence ;  and  the  poor,  because 
no  man  "hires  them." 

"  Would  you  have  us  work,"  said  a  shopkeeper's 
wife,  "  when  we  can  get  scores  of  girls,  glad  to  do  it, 
for  10s.  a  quarter?"  Here  is  one  of  the  sources  of 
evil :  the  "  ways  of  the  household,"  which  are  specially 
allotted  to  the  "  prudent  wife,"  are  made  over  to  the 
uninterested  servant ;  because  this  poor  servant  was 
u  glad"  to  work  for  a  little  more  than  nothing.  The 
keys  of  the  house  are  peculiarly  the  care  of  the  mis- 
tress, and  with  these  well  pocketed  she  prevents  all 
inroads  into  her  larder,  and  the  servant  may  eat  her 
potato  at  option,  for  in  but  few  families  is  she  allowed 
bread  and  butter  or  tea.  This  keeping  everything 
locked,  we  are  told,  is  to  keep  servants  from  theft — the 
surest  method  of  making  them  thieves.  Their  late 
hours  of  rising  and  of  meals,  necessarily  unhinge  all 
that  is  good  in  housekeeping ;  and  where  all  is  left  to 


28 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


servants,  economy  must  come  in  by-the-by.  The  middle 
class,  such  as  shopkeepers,  good  farmers,  and  trades- 
men of  all  kinds,  live  on  a  few  articles  of  diet,  and  the 
mistress  seldom  taxes  her  ingenuity  to  apply  the  useful 
proverb,  "  To  make  one  thing  meet  another."  Bread, 
butter,  tea,  and  an  egg,  are  the  ultimatum  of  a  break- 
fast, at  nine,  and  often  ten  in  the  morning ;  then  a 
yawning  about,  or  perhaps  a  little  fancy  knitting,  till 
lunch,  which  is  a  piece  of  cold  meat  and  bread,  and  in 
the  higher  classes  wine ;  a  dinner  from  four  to  six,  and 
tea  often  brought  on  before  leaving  the  table,  or  in  an 
hour  after.  The  dinner  is,  among  farmers  and  trades- 
men, mostly  pork,  put  upon  a  platter  with  cabbage,  and 
potatoes  served  in  two  ways :  first,  brought  on  in  the 
jackets,  as  they  are  boiled;  next  dish,  which  is  the 
dessert  in  most  houses,  the  potatoes  are  browned  upon 
a  griddle,  which  gives  them  a  good  flavor.  Bread  is 
seldom  or  never  taken  with  potatoes,  and  a  pudding  is 
rarely  seen,  except  on  special  occasions.  Pics  are  often 
made  ;  but  these  are  the  chief  commodities,  and  always 
ended  by"  "  hot  whisky  punch."  This  accompaniment 
is  so  necessary,  that  in  genteel  families  a  handsome 
copper  kettle  is  kept  for  the  special  purpose,  which  is 
put  upon  a  frame  in  the  center  of  a  table.  The  "  lower 
order"  only,  are  teetotalers,  because,  as  the  reason  is 
often  given,  "  it  was  necessary  for  them,  they  were  so 
ignorant  and  vulgar."  Now  what,  must  it  be  expected, 
could  the  daughters  of  such  a  family  be  ?  Why,  the 
exact  copy  of  the  mother  ;  the  servant  must  do  for  her 
what  would  be  for  her  own  health,  and  what  is  actually 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  29 


her  duty  to  perform.  She  is  sent  to  school,  and  goes 
the  routine  of  a  genteel  education.  She  can  work 
Berlin  wool,  perhaps  read  French,  and  possibly  German, 
play  the  piano,  and  write  a  commonplace  letter,  in 
angular  writing,  made  on  purpose  for  the  ladies  ;  but 
with  all  this  her  mind  is  not  cultivated,  her  heart  is  not 
disciplined.  She  looks  pretty,  walks  genteelly,  and  talks 
sometimes  quite  cnchantingly  ;  but  with  all  these  ap- 
purtenances, the  inquiry  must  and  does  arise — "  What 
are  you  good  for  V3  The  little,  common,  necessary 
daily  duties  which  belong  to  woman,  are  unheeded  ;  and 
when  any  exigencies  fall  upon  her,  she  has  no  alterna- 
tive. A  mind  always  accustomed  to  the  same  routine, 
and  that  a  frivolous  one,  cannot,  when  unexpected  ad- 
versity comes,  plunge  into  new  difficult  duties  and  per- 
form them  efficiently.  If  she  have  always  had  a  dress- 
maker to  fit  her  apparel  and  a  waiting-maid  to  put  it 
on,  how  can  she,  should  her  husband  become  a  bank- 
rupt, be  qualified  to  make  and  repair  the  garments  for 
herself  and  children,  which  probably  she  must  do,  or 
her  children  be  in  a  very  untidy  state. 

Now,  as  trifling  as  these  things  appear  to  many,  yet 
Ireland  has  suffered,  and  is  still  doomed  to  suffer  deeply, 
on  these  accounts.  Many  of  these  genteel  ones  are 
reduced  to  the  last  extremity,  the  mistresses  not  being 
able  to  give  even  the  10s.  per  quarter  to  a  servant. 
She  knows  not  how  economically  to  prepare  the  scanty 
food  which  her  husband  may  provide  ;  and  multitudes 
of  this  class  are  either  in  the  walls  of  the  union,  or 
hovering  about  its  precincts. 


30 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


When  the  famine  had  actually  come,  and  all  the 
country  was  aghast,  when  supplies  from  all  parts  were 
poured  in, — what  was  done  with  these  supplies  1  Why, 
the  best  that  these  inefficient  housekeepers  could  do. 
The  rice  and  Indian  meal,  both  of  which  are  excellent 
articles  of  food,  were  cooked  in  such  a  manner  that,  in 
most  cases,  they  were  actually  unhealthy,  and  in  all 
cases  unpalatable.  So  unused  were  they  to  the  use  of 
that  common  article,  rice,  that  they  steeped  it  the  night 
before,  then  poured  the  water  off,  without  rubbing,  and 
for  three  and  four  hours  they  boiled,  stirred,  and  sim- 
mered this,  till  it  became  a  watery  jelly,  disgusting  to 
the  eye  and  unsavory  to  the  taste,  for  they  never  salted 
it ;  besides  unwholesome  for  the  stomachs  of  those  who 
had  always  used  a  dry  potato  for  food.  The  poor  com- 
plained that  it  made  them  sick ;  they  were  accused  of 
being  ungrateful,  and  sometimes  told  they  should  not 
have  any  more ;  and  the  difficulty,  if  possible,  was  in- 
creased, by  giving  it  out  uncooked, — for  the  starving 
ones  in  the  towns  had  no  fuel  and  they  could  not  keep 
up  a  fire  to  stew  it  for  hours,  and  many  of  them  ate  it 
raw,  which  was  certainly  better,  when  they  had  good 
teeth,  than  cooked  in  this  unsavory  way. 

But  the  Indian  meal !  Who  shall  attempt  a  descrip- 
tion of  this  frightful  formidable  1  When  it  first  land- 
ed, the  rich,  who  had  no  occasion  for  using  it,  hailed  it 
with  joy,  and  some  actually  condescended  to  say, 
"  They  believed  they  could  eat  it  themselves."  But 
the  poor,  who  had  not  yet  slid  down  the  precipice  ao 
far  as  to  feel  that  they  were  actually  dying,  could  be 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


31 


heard  on  the  streets,  and  in  the  market-place,  interro- 
gate one  another,  "  And  have  ye  seen  the  yaller  In- 
dian, God  save  us  awl  ?  By  dad  and  c  PeePs  brim- 
stone' has  come  over  again,  to  scrape  the  maw  of  every 
divil  on  us." 

The  reader  must  be  content  to  take  the  famine  just 
as  I  saw  it ;  and  though  the  language  may  be  some- 
times startling,  to  refine  it  by  any  substitution  or  sea- 
soning of  my  own  invention  would  be  weakening  its 
force,  and  oftentimes  frittering  away  the  truth.  In 
justice  it  should  be  said  that  they  often  use  the  word 
devil  in  a  quite  different  meaning  from  what  others  do, 
always  applying  it  to  a  poor  neglected  creature,  how- 
ever deserving  he  may  be,  as  well  as  to  those  who  are 
wicked.  Thus  they  would  often  say,  "  The  breath  is 
cowld  in  the  poor  clivil's  body,  he'll  no  more  feel  the 
hunger,  God  bless  him  !"  And  the  yaller  Indian  was 
called  by  all  manner  of  epithets,  and  went  through 
all  manner  of  ordeals  but  the  right  one.  The  Indian 
meal  by  some  was  stirred  in  cold  water  with  a  stick, 
then  put  quite  dry  upon  a  griddle,  it  consequently 
crumbled  apart,  there  was  no  turning  it ;  and  one  de- 
sponding woman  came  to  me,  saying,  "  That  the  last  bit 
of  turf  had  died  on  her,  and  not  a  ha'porth  of  the  yal- 
ler Indian  would  stop  with  its  comrade."  Others 
made  what  they  call  "  stirabout ;"  this  was  done,  too, 
by  first  steeping  in  cold  water,  then  pouring  it  into  a 
pot,  and  immediately  after  swelling,  it  became  so  thick 
that  it  could  not  be  stirred,  neither  would  it  cook  in 
the  least.    The  "  stirabout"  then  became  a  "  stand- 


32 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


about,"  and  the  cfl'ect  of  eating  this  was  all  but  favor- 
able to  those  who  had  seldom  taken  farinaceous  food. 
They  were  actually  afraid  to  take  it  in  many  cases,  the 
government  meal  in  particular,  fearing  that  the  "  Ing- 
lisli  intinded  to  kill  them"  with  the  "  tarin  and  scrap- 
in  but  when  hunger  had  progressed  a  little,  these 
fears  subsided,  and  they  cared  neither  what  they  ate, 
or  who  sent  it  to  them. 

IJad  the  Women  of  the  higher  classes  known  how  to 
prepare  these  articles  in  a  proper  manner,  much  money 
might  have  been  saved,  and  many  lives  rescued,  which 
are  now  lost. 

When  the  first  clamor  had  a  little  subsided,  there 
followed  the  recipes  for  cooking  Indian  meal.  One  of 
these,  highly  celebrated  for  a  while,  was  from  Italy, 
and  called  "  Polentia whether  spelt  correctly  the 
*  learned  must  decide  ;  but  this  same  Polentia  would  do 
for  gentlemen  and  ladies  too.  The  recipe  cannot  pre- 
cisely be  given  ;  but  enough  to  know  that  it  was  turned 
and  overturned — covered  and  uncovered — boiled  and 
steamed  in  a  pot — and  then  came  out  genteelly,  in  a 
becoming  shape,  according  to  the  form  of  the  pot  used. 
Now  this  was  often  on  the  tables  of  the  gentry,  for  the 
recipe  and  meal  were  from  Italy  ;  the  poor  would  only 
hear  of  this  at  a  distance — the  cooking  they  could  never 
attain.  Next  came  American  recipes  :  these,  with  all 
due  credence,  were  accepted  as  the  one  thing  needful, 
for  they  possessed  these  redeeming  qualities  : — first, 
they  were  from  America,  the  land  which  they  loved, 
for  many  of  their  "  kin"  were  there  ;  next,  that  though 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


33 


they  thought  that  nobody  but  negroes  ate  it — yet  ne- 
groes lived  on  that  food ;  and  "  sure  the  Americans 
wouldn't  hurt  em." 

These  recipes  were  prepared  in  due  form,  and  made 
up  with  suets,  fats,  sweets,  and  spices,  so  that  the 
Laird  John  Russell  himself  could  "  ate  em."  A  great 
and  grand  meeting  of  lords  and  nobility  was  held, 
called  by  the  poor,  the  ."  yaller  Inclin  maitin  and  a 
bona  fide  sanction  put  on  to  the  Indian  meal  cake. 
Here  again  was  a  difficulty — the  meal  was  for  the 
hungry  ;  Where  could  they  procure  spices,  sweets,  and 
fats  for  such  delicacies  ? — and  as  they  thought  that 
these  were  necessary  to  make  it  safe  to  eat,  then  their 
fears  were  awakened  anew.  But  a  few  weeks  adjusted 
all  these  difficulties,  for  when  the  number  of  the  slain 
had  increased  in  every  parish,  all  murmuring  at  the 
quality  of  the  food  ceased — they  suffered  in  uncom- 
plaining silence. 

It  was  on  the  evening  of  December  7th,  when  about 
stepping  into  the  train,  at  Kingstown,  for  Dublin,  I 
heard  a  policeman  relating  to  a  bystander  a  case  of 
famine  at  the  south.  The  potato,  I  knew,  was  partly 
destroyed  ;  but  never  thought  that  actual  famine  would 
be  the  result.  The  facts  were  so  appalling,  that  had 
they  not  come  from  a  policeman,  who,  it  should  be  said, 
are  in  general  men  of  veracity,  my  mind  would  have 
doubted  ;  and  when  he  added  that  "  I  got  this  infor- 
mation from  a  friend  who  was  present  in  the  court,  and 
who  wrote  the  circumstances  to  me,"  all  queries  were 
removed. 

2* 


34 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


A  man  had  died  from  hunger,  and  his  widow  had 
gone  into  the  plowed  field  of  her  landlord  to  try  to 
pick  a  few  potatoes  in  the  ridges  which  might  be  re- 
maining since  the  harvest ;  she  found  a  few — the  land- 
lord saw  her — sent  a  magistrate  to  the  cabin,  who 
found  three  children  in  a  state  of  starvation,  and  noth- 
ing in  the  cabin  but  the  pot,  which  was  over  the  fire. 
He  demanded  of  her  to  show  him  the  potatoes — she 
hesitated  ;  he  inquired  what  she  had  in  the  pot — she 
was  silent ;  he  looked  in,  and  saw  a  dog,  with  the 
handful  of  potatoes  she  had  gathered  from  the  field. 
The  sight  of  the  wretched  cabin,  and  still  more,  the 
despairing  looks  of  the  poor  silent  mother  and  the  fam- 
ished children,  crouched  in  fear  in  a  dark  corner,  so 
touched  the  heart  of  the  magistrate,  that  he  took  the 
pot  from  the  fire,  bade  the  woman  to  follow  him,  and  they 
went  to  the  court-room  together.  He  presented  the  pot, 
containing  the  dog  and  the  handful  of  potatoes,  to  the  as- 
tonished judge.  He  called  the  woman — interrogated 
her  kindly.  She  told  him  they  sat  in  their  desolate  cabin 
two  entire  days,  without  eating,  before  she  killed  the 
half-famished  dog ;  that  she  did  not  think  she  was 
stealing,  to  glean  after  the  harvest  was  gathered.  The 
judge  gave  her  three  pounds  from  his  own  purse  ;  told 
her  when  she  had  used  that  to  come  again  to  him. 

Xhifl  was  a  compassionate  judge, — and  would  to  God 
Ireland  could  boast  of  many  such. 

I  heard  that  story,  heart-rending  as  it  was,  and  soon 
found  that  it  was  but  a  prelude  to  facts  of  daily,  yes, 
dourly  occurrence,  still  more  appalling.    The  work  of 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


85 


death  now  commenced  ;  the  volcano,  over  which  I  felt 
that  Ireland  was  walking,  had  burst,  though  its  ap- 
pearance was  wholly  different  from  anything  I  had  ever 
conceived  ;  a  famine  was  always  in  Ireland,  in  a  cer- 
tain degree ;  and  so  common  were  beggars,  and  so 
many  were  always  but  just  struggling  for  life,  that  not 
until  thousands  were  reduced  to  the  like  condition  of 
the  woman  last  mentioned,  did  those,  who  had  never 
begged,  make  their  wants  known.  They  picked  over 
and  picked  out  their  blackened  potatoes,  and  even  ate 
the  decayed  ones,  till  many  were  made  sick,  before  the 
real  state  of  the  country  was  known  ;  and  when  it  fell, 
it  fell  like  an  avalanche,  sweeping  at  once  the  entire 
land.  No  parish  need  be  anxious  for  neighboring  ones 
— each  had  enough  under  his  own  eye,  and  at  his  own 
door,  to  drain  all  resources,  and  keep  alive  his  sympa- 
thy. It  was  some  months  before  the  rich  really  believ- 
ed that  the  poor  were  not  making  false  pretenses  ;  for 
at  such  a  distance  had  they  ever  kept  themselves  from 
the  "  lower  order,"  who  were  all  "  dirty  and  lazy," 
that  many  of  them  had  never  realized  that  four  mil- 
lions of  people  were  subsisting  entirely  on  the  potato, 
and  that  another  million  ate  them  six  days  out  of  seven, 
entirely  ;  they  did  not  realize  that  these  "  lazy  ones" 
had  worked  six  or  eight  months  in  the  year  for  eight- 
pence  and  tenpence,  but  more  for  sixpence,  and  even 
threepence  in  the  southern  parts,  and  the  other  four 
months  been  "  idle"  because  "  no  man  had  hired  them ;" 
they  did  not  realize  that  the  disgusting  rags  with  which 
these  "  lazy"  ones  disgraced  their  very  gates,  and 


36 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


shocked  all  decency,  were  the  rags  which  they  had 
contributed  to  provide  :  and  such  were  often  heard  to 
say  that  this  judgment  was  what  they  might  expect,  as 
a  reward  of  their  "  religion  and  idleness."  But  the 
wave  rolled  on  ;  the  slain  were  multiplied  ;  the  dead 
by  the  way-side,  and  the  more  revolting  sights  of  fam- 
ilies found  in  the  darkest  corner  of  a  cabin,  in  one 
putrid  mass,  where,  in  many  cases,  the  cabin  was 
tumbled  down  upon  them  to  give  them  a  burial,  was 
somewhat  convincing,  even  to  those  who  had  doubted 
much  from  the  beginning. 

There  were  some  peculiarities  in  this  famine  which 
history  has  not  recorded  in  any  other.  It  may  be 
scrupled  whether  any  were  heard  to  say  that  they 
did  not  deserve  it — that  they  had  not  been  such  sin- 
ners above  all  others,  that  they  must  suffer  so  much — 
and  so  little  plundering  was  never  known  in  any 
famine  as  this ;  scarcely  ever  was  a  bread  shop  dis- 
turbed, though  the  poor  creatures  have  been  found  dead 
under  its  window,  in  sight  of  it ;  the  old  proverb  that 
"  hunger  will  break  through  a  stone  wall,"  was  never 
exemplified  during  the  famine ;  some  carts,  laden  with 
meal,  have  been  pillaged,  and  some  boats  have  been 
robbed,  but  these  were  not  common  occurrences ;  occa- 
sionally, in  the  cities,  would  a  man  throw  a  stone  at  a 
street  lamp,  or  do  some  other  trifling  mischief,  always  in 
presence  of  a  policeman,  that  he  might  be  put  in  jaij, 
where  the  law  must  feed  him.  This  was  certainly  an 
alternative  for  a  starving  man  not  so  much  to  be  cen- 
sured as  admired.    Let  it  be  stated  that  these  men  had 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


37 


applied  for  work  in  vain.  I  will  descend  to  particu- 
lars ;  and  state  what  my  eyes  have  seen  and  my  ears 
have  heard,  and  be  answerable  for  whatever  statements 
are  thus  made. 

The  first  starving  person  that  I  saw  was  a  few  days 
after  the  story  of  the  woman  and  dog  had  been  related. 
A  servant  in  the  house  where  I  was  stopping,  at  Kings- 
town, said  that  the  milk  woman  wished  me  to  see  a 
man  near  by,  that  was  in  a  state  of  actual  starvation ; 
and  he  was  going  out  to  attempt  to  work  on  the  Queen's 
highway;  a  little  labor  was  beginning  opposite  the 
house,  and  fifteen-pence  a-day  stimulated  this  poor 
man,  who  had  seven  to  support,  his  rent  to  pay,  and 
fuel  to  buy.  He  had  been  sick  with  fever  ;  the  clothes 
of  his  family  that  would  fetch  any  price,  had  been 
pawned  or  sold,  and  all  were  starving  together.  He 
staggered  with  his  spade  to  the  work ;  the  overseer 
objected ;  but  he  entreated  to  be  allowed  to  try.  The 
servant  went  out  and  asked  him  to  step  into  the  kitch- 
en ;  and,  reader,  if  you  have  never  seen  a  starving 
human  being,  may  you  never!  In  my  childhood  I  had 
been  frightened  with  the  stories  of  ghosts,  and  had 
seen  actual  skeletons;  but  imagination  had  come  short 
of  the  sight  of  this  man.  And  here,  to  those  who  have 
never  watched  the  progress  of  protracted  hunger,  it 
might  be  proper  to  say,  that  persons  will  live  for 
months,  and  pass  through  different  stages,  and  life  will 
struggle  on  to  maintain  her  lawful  hold,  if  occasional 
scanty  supplies  are  given,  till  the  walking  skeleton 
is  reduced  to  a  state  of  inanity — he  sees  you  not,  he 


38 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


heeds  you  not,  neither  does  he  beg.  The  first  stage  is 
somewhat  clamorous — will  not  easily  be  put  off ;  the 
next  is  patient,  passive  stupidity ;  and  the  last  is 
idiocy.  In  the  second  stage  they  will  stand  at  a  win- 
dow for  hours,  without  asking  charity,  giving  a  vacant 
stare,  and  not  until  peremptorily  driven  away  will  the}r 
move.  In  the  last  state,  the  head  bends  forward,  and 
they  walk  with  long  strides,  and  pass  you  unheedingly. 
The  man  before  mentioned  was  emaciated  to  the  last 
degree ;  he  was  tall,  his  eyes  prominent,  his  skin  shriv- 
eled, his  manner  cringing  and  childlike ;  and  the  im- 
pression then  and  there  made  never  has  nor  never  can 
be  effaced  ;  it  was  the  first,  and  the  beginning  of  these 
dreadful  days  yet  in  reserve.  He  had  a  breakfast,  and 
was  told  to  come  in  at  four  and  get  his  dinner.  The 
family  were  from  home ;  the  servant  had  an  Irish  heart, 
consequently  my  endeavors  were  all  seconded.  Often 
has  she  taken  the  loaf  allowed  for  her  board-wages, 
(that  is,  so  much  allowed  weekly  for  food,)  and  sliced 
nearly  the  whole  away — denying  herself  for  the  suffer- 
ing around  her.  It  must  be  mentioned  that  laborers 
for  the  public,  on  roads,  seldom  or  never  ate  more  than 
twice  a  day,  at  ten  and  four ;  their  food  was  the  potato 
and  oatmeal  stirabout,  and  buttermilk,  the  luxury 
which  was  seldom  enjoyed.  This  man  was  fed  on 
Indian  meal,  gruel,  buttermilk  or  new  milk  and  bread 
in  the  morning  ;  stirabout,  buttermilk  and  bread  at 
four.  Workmen  are  not  paid  at  night  on  the  public 
wrorks,  they  must  wait  a  week  ;  and  if  they  commence 
labor  in  a  state  of  hunger,  they  often  die  before  the 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


89 


week  expires  ;  many  have  been  carried  Lome  to  their 
wretched  cabins,  some  dead  and  others  dying,  who  had 
fallen  down  with  the  spade  in  their  hands.  The  next 
day  after  this  wretched  man  was  fed,  another,  in  like 
condition,  at  work  in  the  same  place,  was  called  in  and 
fed ;  he  afterward  died,  when  the  labor  was  finished, 
and  he  could  get  no  more  work.  The  first  man  grad- 
ually gained  strength,  and  all  for  him  was  encourag- 
ing ;  when  my  purse  became  low — so  many  had  been 
fed  at  the  door  that  a  pot  was  kept  continually  boiling, 
from  seven  in  the  morning  till  seven  at  night ;  Indian 
meal  was  then  dear ;  the  Americans  had  not  sent  their 
supplies ;  and  much  did  my  heart  shrink  at  the  thought 
that  my  means  must  be  exhausted. 

Let  me  here  speak  of  the  virtues  of  Indian  meal ; 
though  always  having  been  accustomed  to  it,  more  or 
less,  not  till  December,  1848,  in  the  famine  of  Ireland, 
did  I  know  its  value.  It  was  made  into  gruel,  boiled 
till  it  became  a  jelly  ;  and  once  a  day  from  twenty-five 
to  thirty  were  fed — some  who  walked  miles  to  get  it ; 
and  every  one  who  had  this  privilege  recovered  without 
tasting  anything  but  that,  once  a  day — they  always 
took  it  till  they  wanted  no  more  ;  and  this  too  without 
bread.  One  old  man  daily  walked  three  miles,  on  his 
staff,  for  this,  and  he  grew  cheerful ;  always  most  cour- 
teously thanking  me,  saying,  "  It  nourishes  my  ould 
heart,  so  that  it  keeps  me  warm  all  the  night." 

I  had  told  these  two  laborers  that  when  they  found 
the  gate  locked  they  must  know  that  I  had  no  more  to 
give  them,  and  they  must  go  home.    The  sad  hour 


40 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


arrived  ;  the  overseer  sent  me  word  that  he  thanked 
me  for  feeding  them  so  long;  they  must  otherwise  have 
died  at  their  work.  The  gate  was  shut,  and  long  and 
tedious  were  the  next  two  days.  One  child  of  the  poor 
man  died,  and  he  buried  it  in  the  morning  before  light, 
because  if  he  took  an  hour  from  labor  he  would  be 
dismissed.  When  the  poor  creatures  that  had  daily 
been  fed  with  the  gruel  came,  and  were  told  there  was 
no  more  for  them,  I  felt  that  I  had  sealed  their  doom. 
They  turned  away,  blessing  me  again  and  again,  but 
"  we  must  die  of  the  hunger,  God  be  praised." 

I  would  not  say  that  I  actually  murmured,  but  the 
question  did  arise,  "  Why  was  I  brought  to  see  a 
famine,  and  be  the  humble  instrument  of  saving  some 
few  alive,  and  then  see  these  few  die,  because  I  had  no 
more  to  give  them  ?" 

Two  days  and  nights  dragged  on.  News  was  con- 
stantly arriving  of  the  fearful  state  of  the  people,  and 
the  specters  that  had  been  before  my  eyes  constant^ 
haunted  me.  My  bedroom  overlooked  the  burying- 
ground.  I  could  fancy,  as  I  often  arose  to  look  into  it, 
that  some  haggard  father  was  bringing  a  dead  child, 
lashed  to  his  back,  and  laying  him  on  some  tombstone, 
as  had  been  done,  and  leaving  it  to  the  mercy  of  who- 
ever might  find  it  a  grave  ! 

I  was  sitting  in  solitude,  alone,  at  eleven  o'clock, 
when  the  man  of  the  house  unexpectedly  arrived.  He 
had  a  parcel ;  in  that  parcel  there  was  money  from 
New  York,'  and  that  money  was  for  me  ! 

No  being,  cither  Christian  or  pagan,  if  he  never  saw 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


41 


a  famine,  nor  possesses  a  feeling  heart,  can  understand 
what  I  then  felt.  I  adored  that  watchful  Hand  that 
had  so  strangely  led  and  upheld  me  in  Ireland  ;  and 
now,  above  all  and  over  all,  when  my  heart  was  sinking 
in  the  deepest  despondency,  when  no  way  of  escape 
appeared,  this  heavenly  boon  was  sent !  The  night 
was  spent  in  adoration  and  praise,  longing  for  the  day, 
when  I  might  again  hang  over  the  "  blessed  pot,"  as 
the  Irish  called  it.  I  lay  below  on  a  sofa,  and  saw  no 
tombstones  that  night. 

The  morning  came — the  pot  was  over  the  fire.  As 
soon  as  shops  were  opened,  meal,  bread,  and  milk  were 
purchased.  The  man  of  the  house  went  early  to  his 
business  in  Dublin.  The  gate  was  unlocked — the 
breakfast  was  prepared.  The  quantity  was  well-nigh 
doubled,  though  enough  had  always  been  provided  be- 
fore. The  sight  of  the  man  was  more  than  I  wished 
to  abide  ;  he  was  again  sinking — had  taken  nothing  but 
a  u  sup,"  as  he  termed  it,  of  some  meager  slop  but 
once  in  the  day,  because  his  children  would  all  die  if 
he  took  it  from  them.  The  other  soon  followed ;  and 
while  they  were  taking  their  breakfast,  I  was  reading 
from  New  York  the  result  of  a  meeting  there  in  behalf 
of  the  Irish.  This  awakened  gratitude  toward  my 
country  unknown  before ;  and  now,  should  I  not  be 
unmindful  of  the  Hand  that  had  led  me  through  this 
wilderness  thus  far,  and  in  every  emergency  carried  me 
almost  miraculously  through,  if  what  I  am  about  to 
record  of  the  few  following  months,  so  far  as  self  is 
concerned,  should  be  withheld  ? 


42 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


That  day  my  mind  was  most  active,  devising  how  the 
greatest  good  might  be  effected  by  the  little  which  God 
had  intrusted  to  me.  Indian  meal,  when  cooked  in  a 
suitable  manner,  was  now  becoming  a  great  favorite ; 
this  I  knew  how  to  do,  and  determined  to  use  the  money 
for  this  object,  always  cooking  it  myself.  When  this 
was  adjusted  in  my  mind,  the  remainder  of  the  day  was 
devoted  to  writing  letters  to  America,  mostly  for  the 
two  objects  of  thanking  them  for  what  they  had  done, 
and  giving  them,  from  eye-witness,  a  little  account  of 
the  famine.  In  this,  the  desire  and  even  the  thought 
was  entirely  withheld  of  receiving  anything  myself  to 
give  ;  acting  entirely  as  a  passive  instrument ;  moving, 
because  moved  upon.  Here,  afterward,  was  the  wis- 
dom of  Him  who  sees  not  as  man  seeth,  peculiarly  ma- 
nifest ;  for  had  I  that  day,  by  the  parcel  put  into  my 
hands  from  New  York,  been  in  possession  of  a  hundred 
pounds,  the  day  would  have  been  spent  in  going  into 
the  cabins  of  the  starving,  and  distributing  to  the  needy 
— the  money  would  have  soon  been  expended,  and  then 
no  more  means  would  have  been  in  my  power  to  do 
good.  But  my  weakness  was  God's  strength,  my  pov- 
erty His  riches ;  and  as  He  had  shown  me,  all  the 
journey  through,  that  my  dependence  should  be  entirely 
on  Him,  so  now,  more  than  ever,  it  was  to  be  made 
manifest.  The  letters  crossed  the  ocean,  found  the 
way  to  the  hands  and  hearts  of  those  to  whom  they  were 
sent,  and,  when  in  the  multitude  of  other  thoughts  and 
cares  they  were  by  the  writer  forgotten  as  a  past  dream, 
they  were  returned,  embodied  in  a  printed  parcel,  ac- 


FAMINE  IN   IRELAND.  43 

companied  with  donations  of  meal,  money,  and  clothing ; 
and  this,  like  the  other,  reached  me  when  all  means 
were  exhausted. 

When  the  rumor  of  a  famine  had  become  authenti- 
cated in  Dublin,  Joseph  Bewley,  a  Friend,  possessing 
both  a  warm  heart  and  full  purse,  (which  do  not  always 
go  together,)  put  in  operation  a  soup  shop,  which  fed 
many  hundreds  twice  a  day.  This  soup  was  of  the  best 
quality,  the  best  meat,  peas,  oatmeal,  &c.  ;  and  when 
applications  became  so  numerous  that  a  greater  supply 
was  requisite  and  funds  failing,  mention  was  made  to 
this  benevolent  man  that  the  quantity  of  meat  must  be 
reduced,  his  answer  was,  that  not  one  iota  should  be 
taken  off,  but  more  added,  if  even  it  must  be  done  en- 
tirely at  his  own  expense.  It  shall,  he  added,  be  made 
rich  and  nourishing,  as  well  as  palatable.  The  poor 
who  could,  were  required  to  pay  half-price  for  a  ticket ; 
and  benevolent  people  purchased  tickets  by  the  quantity, 
and  gave  to  the  poor.  The  regulation  of  this  soup 
establishment  was  a  pattern  worthy  of  imitation.  The 
neatness  and  order  of  the  shop ;  the  comely  attired 
Quaker  matrons  and  their  daughters,  with  their  white 
sleeves  drawn  over  their  tidy-clad  arms — their  white 
aprons  and  caps,  all  moving  in  that  quiet  harmony  so 
peculiar  to  that  people  ;  and  there,  too,  at  seven  in  the 
morning,  and  again  at  midday.  All  this  beauty  and 
finish,  contrasted  with  the  woe-begone,  emaciated,  filthy, 
fagged  beings  that  stood  in  their  turn  before  them,  was 
a  sight  at  which  angels,  if  they  could  weep,  might  weep, 
and  might  rejoice  too.    Often  have  I  stood,  in  painful 


44 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


admiration,  to  sec  the  two  extremes  of  degradation  and 
elevation,  comfort  and  misery,  cleanliness  and  filth,  in 
these  two  classes,  made  alike  in  God's  image,  but 
thrown  into  different  circumstances,  developing  two 
such  wide  and  strange  opposites. 

My  task  was  a  different  one — operating  individually. 
I  took  my  own  time  and  way — as  woman  is  wont  to  do 
when  at  her  own  option  ;  and  before  the  supplies,  which 
afterward  came  through  the  letters  mentioned,  I  marked 
out  a  path  which  was  pursued  during  that  winter,  until 
July,  when  I  left  for  the  North.  A  basket  of  good  di- 
mensions was  provided,  sufficient  to  contain  three  loaves 
of  the  largest  made  bread ;  this  was  cut  in  slices,  and 
at  eight  o'clock  I  set  off.  The  poor  had  watched  the 
"  American  lady,"  and  were  always  on  the  spot,  ready 
for  an  attack,  when  I  went  out ;  and  the  most  efficient 
method  of  stopping  their  importunities  was  bread.  No 
sooner  well  upon  the  street,  than  the  army  commenced 
rallying  ;  and  no  one,  perhaps,  that  winter,  wras  so  regu- 
larly guarded  as  was  this  basket  and  its  owner.  A 
slice  was  given  to  each,  till  it  was  all  exhausted ;  while 
in  desperation,  at  times,  lest  I  might  be  overpowered — 
not  by  violence,  but  by  number — I  hurried  on,  some- 
times actually  running  to  my  place  of  destination,  the 
hungry  ones,  men,  women,  and  children,  who  had  not 
received  the  slice,  in  pursuit — till  I  rushed  into  some 
shop-door  or  house,  for  protection,  till  the  troop  should 
retire  ;  sometimes  the  stay  would  be  long  and  tedious, 
and  ofttimes  they  must  be  driven  back  by  force.  Cook 
street,  a  place  devoted  almost  entirely  to  making  coffins, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


45 


and  well  known  by  the  name  of  Coffin  street,  was  the 
field  of  my  winter's  labor.  This  was  chosen  for  its  ex- 
treme poverty,  being  the  seat  of  misery  refined ;  and 
here  no  lady  of  "delicate  foot"  would  like  to  venture; 
and  beside,  I  saw  that  a  little  thrown  over  a  wide  sur- 
face was  throwing  all  away,  and  no  benefit  that  was 
lasting  would  ensue.  Ten  pounds  divided  among  a 
hundred,  would  not  keep  one  from  starvation  many 
days ;  but  applied  to  twenty,  economically,  might  save 
those  twenty  till  more  efficient  means  might  be  taken. 
So  much  a  day  was  allowed  to  each  family,  according 
to  their  number, — always  cooking  it  myself,  in  their 
cabins,  till  they  could  and  did  do  it  prudently  them- 
selves. The  turf  was  provided  and  the  rent  paid 
weekly,  which  'must  be  done,  or,  in  many  cases,  turning 
upon  the  street  was  the  consequence  :  for  it  is  no  more 
than  justice  to  observe,  that  there  are  some  kind  slave- 
holders in  the  United  States,  and  there  are  some  kind 
landlords  in  Ireland ;  but  in  too  many  cases  both  are 
synonymous  terms,  so  far  as  power  may  be  equal. 

One  of  these  miserable  families  was  that  of  a  widow. 
I  found  her  creeping  upon  the  street,  one  cold  night, 
when  snow  was  upon  the  ground.  Her  pitiful  posture, 
bent  over,  leaning  upon  two  sticks,  with  a  little  boy  and 
girl  behind  her  crying  with  the  cold,  induced  me  to  in- 
quire, and  I  found  that  she  was  actually  lame,  her  legs 
much  swollen,  and  her  story  proved  to  be  a  true  one. 
She  had  been  turned  from  the  hospital  as  a  hopeless 
case,  and  a  poor,  sick,  starving  friend  had  taken  her  in, 
and  she  had  crawled  out  with  a  few  boxes  of  matches  to 


4G 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


sco  if  she  could  sell  them,  for  she  told  me  she  could  not 
yet  bring  herself  to  beg ;  she  could  work,  and  was 
willing  to,  could  she  get  knitting  or  sewing.  I  inquired 
her  number.  "  I  will  not  deny  it  again,"  she  replied  ; 
"  I  did  so  to  a  lady,  soon  after  I  came  out  of  the  hos- 
pital, for  I  was  ashamed  to  be  found  in  such  a  dreadful 
place,  by  a  lady ;  but  I  have  been  so  punished  for  that 
lie,  that  I  will  not  do  it  again."  Giving  her  a  few 
pence,  and  meaning  to  take  her  by  surprise  if  I  found 
her  at  all,  an  indirect  promise  was  made  to  call  at  some 
future  day.  At  ten  the  next  morning  my  way  was 
made  into  that  fearful  street,  and  still  more  fearful 
alley  which  led  to  the  cheerless  abode  I  entered. 

The  reader  may  be  informed  that  in  the  wealthy, 
bco,utiful  city  of  Dublin,  which  can  boast  some  of  the 
finest  architecture  on  earth,  there  are  in  retired  streets 
and  dark  alleys,  some  of  the  most  forbidding,  most  un- 
comfortable abodes  that  can  be  found  in  the  wildest  bogs 
of  that  wretched  country.  Finding  my  way  through 
darkness  and  filth,  a  sight  opened  upon  me,  which, 
speaking  moderately,  was  startling.  When  I  had  re- 
covered a  little,  I  saw  on  my  right  hand  the  miserable 
woman  before-named,  sitting  in  a  dark  corner  on  a  little 
damp  straw,  which  poorly  defended  her  from  the  wet 
and  muddy  ground-floor  she  was  occupying.  The  two 
ragged,  hungry  children  were  at  her  feet ;  on  the  other 
side  of  the  empty  grate  (for  there  was  not  a  spark  of 
fire)  sat  the  kind  woman  who  had  taken  her  in,  on  the 
same  foundation  of  straw  and  mud,  with  her  back 
against  the  wall.    She  was  without  a  dress — she  had 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  47 

pawned  her  last  to  pay  her  rent ;  her  husband  likewise 
had  pawned  his  coat  for  the  same  purpose.  He  was 
lying  upon  the  straw,  with  a  fragment  of  a  cotton  shawl 
about  him,  for  he  had  no  shirt.  They  were  all  silent, 
and  for  a  while  I  was  mute.  The  woman  first  men- 
tioned broke  the  pause,  by  saying,  "  This,  I  believe,  is 
■  the  kind  lady  I  met  last  night :  you  have  found  the  way 
to  our  dark  place,  and  I  am  sorry  we  cannot  ask  you  to 
sit  down."  There  was  not  even  a  stool  in  the  room. 
The  young  woman  had  been  sick  for  wrecks,  and  was 
now  only  able  to  sit  up  a  little ;  but  having  neither 
food,  fuel,  or  covering,  nothing  but  death  stared  them 
in  the  face  ;  and  the  most  affecting  part  of  the  whole  to 
me  was  the  simple  statement  of  the  widow,  who  said,  in 
the  most  resigned  manner,  "  We  have  been  talking, 
Mary  and  I,  this  morning,  and  counting  off  our  days ; 
we  could  not  expect  any  relief,  for  I  could  not  go  out 
again,  and  she  could  not,  and  the  farthest  that  the  good 
God  will  give  us  on  earth  cannot  be  more  than  fourteen 
days.  The  children,  may  be,"  she  added,  "  God  would 
let  her  take  with  her,  for  they  must  soon  starve  if  left." 
This  had  been  a  cool  calculation  made  from  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  present  condition,  and  without  the  least 
murmuring  they  were  bringiDg  their  minds  to  their  cir- 
cumstances. "  You  are  willing  to  live  longer,"  I  said. 
"  If  the  good  God  wills  it,"  was  the  answer  ;  "  but  we 
cannot  see  how."  They  did  live.  Daily  did  I  go  and 
cook  their  food,  or  see  it  cooked,  and  daily  did  they  im- 
prove ;  and  in  a  few  weeks  many  an  apronful  of  shav- 
ings and  blocks  were  brought  to  me  from  the  coffin- 


48 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


shops,  by  the  young  woman  who  was  sitting  almost 
naked  on  the  straw.  They  both  were  good  expert  knit- 
ters and  good  seamstresses ;  and  my  garments,  which 
were  approaching  to  a  sisterhood  with  many  of  the 
going-down  genteel  ones,  were  soon  put  in  tidy  repair 
by  this  young  woman.  Often,  late  in  the  evening,  would 
I  hear  a  soft  footstep  on  the  stairs,  followed  by  a  gentle 
tap,  and  the  unassuming  Mary  would  enter  with  her 
bountiful  supply  of  fire-kindling ;  and  when  she  was  told 
that  less  would  do  very  well,  and  she  should  keep  more 
for  herself,  she  replied,  "  I  can  do  with  little,  and  you 
would  not  like  to  go  to  the  shop  for  any."  She  watched 
my  wardrobe,  kept  everything  in  the  best  repair,  and 
studied  my  comfort  first,  before  she  seemed  to  know 
that  she  needed  any.  I  had  saved  her  life,  she  said, 
and  that  was  more  than  all  she  could  do  for  me ;  and 
the  day  that  I  sailed  from  Dublin  for  England,  as  I 
was  hurrying  along  the  street,  some  one  caught  me  by 
my  dress,  and  turning  about,  Mary  stood  before  me, 
whom  I  had  not  seen  for  months,  having  been  absent  in 
the  mountains.  She  had  a  basket  on  her  arm,  was 
comfortably  clad,  said  she  was  selling  fruit  and  vege- 
tables and  doing  well ;  the  other  was  still  with  her,  in 
ill  health,  but  not  suffering  for  food.  "  Farewell,  Mary, 
we  shall  meet  no  more  on  earth  ;  may  God  fit  us  both 
for  a  better  world !?'  "  Shall  I  never  see  you  again  ? — 
God  be  praised  that  he  sent  you  to  us ! " 

The  man  whom  I  found  on  the  highway  at  Kingstown, 
having  heard  that  I  was  going  from  Ireland,  walked 
seven  Irish  miles  that  day,  to  see  and  thank  me,  and 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


49 


leave  his  blessing.  I  was  out,  and  regretted  much,  for 
his  sake  as  well  as  mine,  that  he  was  disappointed. 
These  testimonials  were  more  grateful  to  me  than  would 
have  been  a  donation  of  plate  from  the  government. 
They  were  God's  testimonials — the  offerings  of  the 
poor  ;  and  that  heart  is  not  to  be  envied  that  does  not 
know  their  blessing. 

Another  feeble  dying  woman  I  found  upon  the  street, 
one  rainy  day,  who  had  reached  a  state  of  half-idiocy, 
and  for  two  years  was  fed  and  partly  clothed,  whether 
I  was  in  Dublin  or  not ;  and  though  she  had  a  tolerable 
supply  of  food,  her  mind  never  rallied  ;  yet  she  always 
knew  and  acknowledged,  even  to  a  weakness,  her  bene- 
factress. She  never  has  yet  been  made  in  the  least  to 
rely  on  herself ;  what  she  is  bidden  to  do  is  done  like  a 
child,  and  then  she  is  satisfied. 

These  few  cases  are  given  as  specimens,  not  wish- 
ing to  be  tedious  with  such  narrations,  only  to  show 
the  character  of  the  famine,  and  its  effects  in  general 
on  the  sufferers,  with  whom  I  was  conversant.  The 
distribution  of  the  bread  in  the  street  was  continued, 
not  even  Sabbaths  excepted  ;  my  basket  was  often 
taken  near  the  chapel  door,  and  left  in  some  house  till 
I  came  out.  So  pressing  at  last  was  the  crowd,  that  I 
dare  not  go  into  a  shop  to  take  out  my  purse  to  buy  the 
most  trifling  article,  and  a  bread-shop  above  all  was 
avoided.  There  was  no  fear  of  violence,  but  the  dread- 
ful importuning,  falling  upon  their  knees,  clasping  their 
emaciated  hands,  and  their  glaring  eyes  fixed  upon  me, 
were  quite  too  much.  Sometimes  I  endeavored  to  steal 
3 


60 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


into  a  shop  in  tiie  evening  unperceived,  but  never  suc- 
ceeded. Hunger,  in  its  incipient  stages,  never  sleeps, 
never  neglects  its  watch,  but  continues  sharpening  the 
inventive  faculties,  till,  like  the  drunkard's  thirst,  in- 
trigue and  dissimulation  give  startling  proof  of  the 
varied  materials  which  compose  the  entire  man.  From 
the  first  look  that  was  presented  me  by  the  starving 
man  in  Kingstown,  a  common  desire  for  food  never  re- 
turned, so  that  through  the  winter,  but  little  was  neces- 
sary for  my  wants.  Twopence  halfpenny  worth  of 
cocoa  for  a  week,  threepence  halfpenny  for  milk,  three- 
pence for  sugar,  and  fourteenpence  for  bread  ;  making 
in  all  twenty-threepence,  was  the  most  ever  used ;  but 
in  a  few  weeks,  necessity  compelled  a  reducing  the  ex- 
pense, from  which  not  the  least  inconvenience  was  felt. 
My  practice  was  to  pay  the  mistress  for  lodgings 
weekly,  in  advance,  that  she  might  feel  no  uneasiness ; 
and  after  doing  this  one  Monday  morning,  my  purse 
promptly  told  me  that  Saturday  night  would  leave  my 
poor  pensioners,  one  m  particular,  without  a  shelter,  if 
the  usual  quantity  of  food  were  taken.  Something 
must  be  done  :  money  was  exhausted,  and  from  no 
human  source  could  I  that  week  look  for  more.  In  a 
paper  I  had  a  pound  of  Indian  meal — the  cocoa,  milk 
and  sugar  were  stopped,  and  the  meal  made  into  gruel, 
twenty-three  pence  was  reduced  to  fourteen  ;  and  when 
the  meal  was  expended,  a  penny  roll  was  taken  into 
my  muff  as  the  day's  excursion  commenced,  and  eaten 
when  and  where  opportunity  best  presented,  and  in- 
clination most  strongly  prompted.    The  widow's  rent 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


51 


was  paid,  no  inconvenience  felt,  and  before  the  next 
demand  was  made,  an  unexpected  call  for  a  few  books 
which  I  had  published  in  Scotland,  put  me  in  posses- 
sion of  a  little  more,  so  that  the  u  cruise  of  oil"  never 
failed.  The  pensioners  were  fed  in  the  mean  time 
from  their  own  industry,  for  the  women  had  been  pro- 
vided with  knitting,  which  though  poorly  paid,  yet  kept 
them  from  actual  hunger.  Another  expedient  I  never 
omitted  when  available.  The  people  of  Dublin,  among 
the  comfortable  classes,  whatever  hospitality  they  might 
manifest  toward  guests  and  visitors,  had  never  troubled 
themselves  by  looking  into  the  real  home  wants  of  the 
suffering  poor.  Enough  they  thought  that  societies  of 
all  kinds  abounded,  and  a  poor-house  besides,  were 
claims  upon  their  purses  to  a  full  equivalent  for  all 
their  consciences  required,  and  to  visit  them  was  quite 
unlady-like,  if  not  dangerous.  To  many  of  these  I  had 
access  as  a  matter  of  curiosity,  to  hear  from  me  the 
tales  of  starvation,  which  they  were  now  to  have  dealt 
out  unsparingly ;  and  so  kind  were  the  most  of  them 
that  the  interview  generally  ended  by  an  invitation  to 
eat,  which  was  never  refused  when  needed,  and  the 
meal  thus  saved  was  always  given  to  the  hungry. 
These  people  would  not  have  given  a  shilling  in  money, 
but  many  and  many  a  meal  of  gruel  was  provided  from 
these  hap-hazard  lunches,  through  that  sad  winter ; 
and,  more  than  this,  a  kind  woman  who  is  now  in  her 
grave,  and  with  whom  I  had  once  lodged,  gave  me  an 
invitation,  which  was  to  continue  during  my  labors  in 
Dublin,  of  coming  to  dine  with  her  every  Sabbath  ;  and 


52 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


then  a  bountiful,  well-cooked  dinner  of  vegetables  and 
a  pudding  were  always  provided.  These  kind  Sabbath 
dinners  were  all  I  tasted  that  winter  ;  two  meals  a  day 
for  the  other  six,  made  me  quite  satisfied.  Something 
better  was  now  in  reserve. 

The  Central  Committee  of  the  Society  of  Friends, 
which  was  organized  in  November,  1846,  had  effectu- 
ally and  untiringly  begun,  and  carried  on  one  of  the 
most  extensive  and  noble  plans  that  probably  had  ever 
been  known  under  any  circumstances  of  distress,  by 
private  individuals.  And  their  first  circular  should  be 
stereotyped  and  kept,  that  future  generations  may 
read.  One  or  two  sentences  only  are  here  recorded,  as 
specimens  of  the  spirit  which  moved  this  faithful  body 
of  men  : — 

"  Many  of  us  partake  largely  of  the  Lord's  outward 
gifts ;  and  it  is  surely  incumbent  on  us  to  be  prompt  in 
manifesting  our  sense  of  His  unmerited  bounty,  by  offices 
of  Christian  kindness  to  our  suffering  fellow-creatures. 
May  we  prove  ourselves  faithful  stewards  of  the  sub- 
stance intrusted  to  us. 

"  Let  none  presume  to  think  that  the  summons  to 
deep  and  serious  thoughtfulness,  and  to  a  close  search- 
ing of  heart,  does  not  extend  to  him.  Which  of  us  has 
ever  experienced  what  it  is  to  want  food  1  May  none 
of  our  hearts  be  lifted  up  by  these  things,  or  betrayed 
into  forgetfulness  of  our  dependent  condition,  and  of 
our  utter  unworthiness  of  the  least  of  the  Lord's  mer- 
cies ;  for  surely  to  each  of  us  belongs  the  humbling  in- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  58 

quiry,  '  Who  rnaketk  thee  to  differ  from  another,  and 
■what  hast  thou  that  thou  didst  not  receive  V  " 

Other  committees  soon  cooperated  with  this  ;  Water- 
ford,  Limerick,  Cork,  Youghal,  &c,  were  moved  to  like 
exertions.  Nor  did  these  exertions  rest  on  the  British 
side  of  the  Atlantic. 

In  March,  18-iT,  an  extract  from  the  Central  Relief 
Committee,  says  ;  In  consequence  of  a  letter  addressed 
by  Jacob  Harvey  of  New  York,  to  Thomas  P.  Cope,  a 
meeting  was  held  in  Mulberry  Street  House,  commit- 
tees appointed  to  make  collections,  &c,  and  what  was 
the  result  ]  The  report  says,  "  Considering  the  short 
time  which  had  elapsed  at  the  period  of  our  latest  ac- 
counts, since  sufficient  information  of  the  distress  of 
Ireland  had  reached  the  American  public  ;  that  from 
the  great  extent  of  the  mission  no  opportunity  had  then 
been  afforded  for  the  full  development  of  public  feeling ; 
that  the  supplies  of  money  and  food  already  received 
and  on  the  way,  are  but  the  first-fruits  of  their  liber- 
ality ;  the  movement  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  manifestations  of  national  sympathy 
on  record."  And  in  another  report,  after  two  years 
and  a  half  labor,  this  same  Committee  say  that,  refer- 
ring to  their  circular,  "  it  was  responded  to,  not  merely 
by  those  to  whom  it  was  addressed  ;  but  by  many  un- 
connected with  our  religious  societies  in  these  countries, 
and  also  by  the  citizens  of  the  United  States,  to  an  ex- 
tent and  with  a  munificence  unparalleled  in  the  history 
of  benevolent  exertions.  The  contributions  confided 
to  us,  in  money,  food,  and  clothing,   amounted  to 


54 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


about  £200,000,  of  which  more  than  half  was  sent 
from  America."  The  Committee  add,  that  "the  con- 
tributions intrusted  to  them  were  but  a  small  propor- 
tion of  the  whole  expenditure  for  the  relief  of  the 
country." 

America  sent  much  nioncy,  and  many  ship-loads  of 
provisions,  which  did  not  pass  through  the  hands  of  this 
committee.  The  British  Relief  Association  dispensed 
about  £400,000.  The  distribution  by  other  relief  as- 
sociations may  be  estimated  at  fully  £200,000  ;  and  the 
collections  by  local  committees  in  Ireland  exceeded 
£300,000.  The  aggregate  of  the  wdiole,  taking  remit- 
tances from  emigrants,  private  benevolence,  &c,  was 
not  less  than  one  million  and  a  half  sterling.  Govern- 
ment relief,  ten  millions  sterling. 

To  return  to  individual  exertion.  The  New  York 
people  opened  a  fund  ;  appointed  a  Treasurer  ;  and 
devoted  the  avails  to  me,  to  be  used  at  my  discretion  ; 
and  sent  these  donations,  at  first,  through  the  chan- 
nel of  the  Central  Committee,  in  Dublin.  This  favor 
to  me  was  more  than  can  be  described  or  imagined  by 
any  who  never  witnessed  what  I  had,  and  who  had 
never  been  placed  in  the  same  condition  to  act.  I  now 
ascended  an  eminence  which  was  a  lofty  one  ;  and  on 
which  I  hope  I  may  never  again  stand — such  a  mission, 
however  honorable  it  may  be  to  be  able  to  rescue  our 
fellow-creatures  from  death,  has  an  unnatural  cause  for 
its  claim ;  and  when  famine  is  allowed  to  progress  till 
the  slain  are  multiplied,  it  says  one  of  two  things  : — 
First,  that  the  promise  of  a  "  seed-time  and  harvest" 


FAMINE  IB  IRELAND. 


did  not  embrace  a  sufficiency  of  food  for  every  month 
in  the  world ;  or  else  that  man  has  not  done  his  duty  in 
securing  that  food.  Now  God  never  deals  vaguely 
with  man,  his  promises  are  clear  and  definite,  his  de- 
mands rational  and  peremptory  : — **  Do  this  and  live  ; 
neglect  it,  and  die."  'When  He  said  ;i  seed-time  and 
harvest,"  He  said,  by  that,  food  shall  always  be  suf- 
ficient for  man :  and  never  was  a  famine  on  earth,  in 
any  part,  when  there  was  not  an  abundance  in  some 
part,  to  make  up  all  the  deficiency  ;  and  if  man  is  not 
warned  by  some  dreamer,  like  Pharaoh,  of  a  seven 
years'  famine,  to  secure  a  wise  Joseph,  to  provide  in 
advance  for  a  seven  years'  destitution ;  yet  if  he  is  a 
wise  husbandman,  a  good  steward,  a  discerner  of  the 
signs  of  the  times — when  the  skies  drop  down  "  extra 
fatness,"  and  the  harvests  are  doubly  laden  with  rich 
fruit,  he  hesitates  not  in  believing  that  tithes  and  offer- 
ings will  be  called  for  somewhere,  into  the  storehouse 
of  the  Lord,  proportionable  to  the  seventh  day's  manna 
that  was  rained  from  the  heavens,  to  be  gathered  on 
the  sixth. 

Thus  Ireland's  famine  was  a  marked  one,  so  far  as 
man  was  concerned ;  and  God  is  slandered,  when  it  is 
cailel  an  unavoidable  dispensation  of  His  wise  provi- 
dence, to  which  we  should  all  humbly  bow,  as  a  chas- 
tisement which  could  not  be  avoided.  As  well  might 
we  say  to  the  staggering  inebriate,  that  he  must  be 
patient  under  a  wise  dispensation  of  Providence — that 
the  Lord  does  not  willingly  afflict  him.  &c.,  as  to  say 
that  the  starving  thousands  in  Ireland  must  submit 


50 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


patiently,  because  God,  for  wise  purposes,  had  turned 
from  all  natural  laws  to  send  this  affliction  upon  them ; 
for  in  the  first  place,  the  potato  had  been,  everywhere 
in  Ireland,  an  indirect  curse,  and  in  many  parts  a 
direct  one ;  for  centuries  the  poor  had  been  oppressed 
and  degraded  by  this  root — for  oppression  is  always 
degradation;  they  had  not  the  privilege  even  of  the 
beasts  of  the  desert  in  variety ;  for  the  brutes,  where 
instinct  or  pleasure  demand,  can  select  their  food  ;  the 
bird,  if  it  cannot  find  a  corn,  may  select  a  seed ;  the 
lion,  if  he  cannot  find  an  opportunity  to  capture  any 
nobler  game,  may  secure  a  sheep  or  calf ;  the  cat,  if 
the  mouse  be  not  in  reach  of  her  stealthy  step,  may  se- 
cure the  unwary  bird,  or  if  the  wing  of  the  bird  be  too 
lofty  she  may  put  her  quick  paw  and  fasten  the  nails 
into  the  darting  fish ;  the  horse  or  cow,  if  grass  from 
the  meadow  or  hay  from  the  stack  be  wanting,  may 
be  supplied  from  the  full  granary  ;  but  the  Irish  must 
masticate  the  potato  every  day  in  the  year,  either  boiled 
or  roasted,  with  or  without  salt;  and  if  his  churlish, 
dainty,  grumbling  palate  should  show  any  symptoms  of 
relishing  food  like  other  men,  he  is  told  that,  lazy, 
dirty,  and  savage  as  he  is,  the  potato  is  a  boon  which  is 
quite  too  good  for  him.  Now  when  God  gave  the 
u  herb  bearing  seed,  and  the  tree  bearing  fruit,"  to 
man,  He  said  not  that  one  portion  of  mankind  shall  bo 
confined  to  a  single  root ;  and  though  his  patience  long 
continued  to  see  him  fed  on  this  root,  by  his  masters, 
yet,  in  his  own  time,  He  "  came  out  of  his  place,"  and 
with  one  breath  blackened  and  blasted  this  instrument 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  57 

of  torture  and  cruelty;  and  though  puny  man  has 
attempted  to  resuscitate  and  bring  it  to  its  old  use,  this 
breath  blows  upon  it,  and  it  shrinks  back  into  its  insig- 
nificance, abashed  and  deadened,  as  if  cognizant  of  the 
degrading  use  to  which  it  had  been  applied.  But  the 
care  of  God,  at  the  same  time  that  this  fatal  work  was 
done,  had  before  filled  the  granaries  of  the  husband- 
man, at  least  over  the  civilized  world,  to  an  overflowing 
abundance ;  and  while  he  had  been  doing  this  He  also 
prepared  the  hearts  of  these  husbandmen,  all  over  the 
Christian  world,  to  rise  in  one  simultaneous  mass,  and 
pour  into  this  famished  land  the  fruits  of  their  har- 
vests; so  that — shall  it  be  said,  for  future  generations 
to  read, — that  it  rotted  in  the  harbors  while  the  dying 
were  falling  in  the  streets,  for  want  of  it  1  Yes,  un- 
hesitatingly may  it  be  said,  that  there  was  not  a  week 
during  that  famine,  but  there  was  sufficient  food  for  the 
wants  of  that  week,  and  more  than  sufficient.  Was 
there  then  a  "  God's  famine"  in  Ireland,  in  1846-7- 
8-9,  and  so  on  1  No  !  it  is  all  mockery  to  call  it  so, 
and  mockery  which  the  Almighty  will  expose,  before 
man  will  believe,  and  be  humbled  as  he  ought  to  be. 
It  is  therefore  I  say,  may  I  never  be  on  such  an  emi- 
nence again,  from  such  a  cause,  from  one  which,  if  its 
breaking  forth  could  not  have  been  foreseen  or  pre- 
vented, need  never  have  resulted  in  the  loss  of  a  single 
life. 

The  principle  of  throwing  away  life  to-day,  lest 
means  to  protect  it  to-morrow  might  be  lessened,  was 

fully  and  practically  carried  on  and  carried  out. 

3* 


CHAPTER  III. 


"Man's  a  king — his  throne  is  Duty 
Since  his  work  on  earth  began  " 

The  responsibility  of  a  stewardship  is  a  great  one, 
and  doubly  so  where  the  results  are  connected  with  life 
as  well  as  property  ;  and  where  the  last  is  in  the  hand 
of  the  steward,  who  at  option,  may  save  or  destroy  the 
former.  Had  a  commission  been  intrusted  to  me, 
under  certain  restrictions,  and  a  salary  paid,  on  condi- 
tion of  a  right  performance  of  duty,  the  path  would 
have  been  open  and  plain ;  but  working  for  no  reward, 
under  no  restrictions  but  conscience,  in  the  midst  of 
the  "valley  and  shadow  of  death,"  emphatically,  where 
some  would  stumble  and  fall,  and  where  all  had  an 
equal  claim  upon  the  bounties  which  were  to  be  applied, 
was  a  fearful  task.  This  task  must  be  entered  upon, 
and  the  first  duty,  after  securing  a  room  for  a  deposit, 
was  to  find  suitable  objects — by  this  is  implied  objects 
which  were  not  only  needy,  but  which,  in  the  jumble  of 
fio  much  machinery  as  was  attached  to  so  many  different 
Associations,  were  overlooked.  These  Associations 
had  now  multiplied  to  such  an  extent,  that  the  time  in 
getting  the  varied  instruments  into  harmonious  action 
was  considerable ;  many  died  in  sight  of  boilers  pre- 


ANNALS  OF  THE  FAMINE. 


59 


paring  to  feed  the  hungry,  or  when  prepared,  they  must 
wait  till  the  "  Relieving  Officer  had  time  to  enter  their 
names  on  the  books." 

I  stopped  for  no  books,  knowing  that  a  faithful  un- 
erring record  would  be  kept  in  the  council  chamber 
above,  where  the  rich  and  the  poor  would  soon  meet 
before  the  Maker  of  them  all ;  and  my  only  prayer  was, 
that  when  that  book  should  be  opened,  I  should  not  find 
there  noted  the  name  of  any  who  had  gone  before  as  a 
witness  of  my  neglect. 

Cook  street  furnished  a  tolerable  supply ;  and  the 
remainder  I  found  scattered  in  desolate  places ;  some 
who  had  despaired  of  relief,  because  having  neither 
courage  nor  strength,  to  make  their  way  through  the 
tumultuous  revolting  crowds  which  congregated  about 
every ,  place  of  public  relief,  submitted  to  their  fate 
with  a  patient  coolness  and  apparent  resignation,  which 
I  have  never  been  able  to  comprehend.  One  woman  I 
found  sitting  in  her  chamber,  looking  respectably  clean ; 
upon  inquiry  into  her  real  condition,  the  facts  proved  to 
be  these ; — she  had  heard  of  the  Government  Relief, 
and  had  exhausted  the  last  farthing  for  food,  and  when 
hunger  became  pressing,  she  sought  her  way  timidly  to 
the  Relieving  Officer's  station,  and  made  her  wants 
known ;  she  was  then  suffering  extremely,  but  she  was 
sent  away  with  the  promise  that  he  would  call  in  the 
morning  and  make  inquiries,  and  if  he  found  her  worthy 
she  should  have  her  name  entered  into  the  "  books 
she  went  to  bed  supperless,  and  arose  the  next  morning, 
waiting  for  the  officer — he  came  not ;  she  feared  if  she 


60 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


should  go  out  ho  would  call,  and  then  she  should  lose 
her  opportunity ;  that  night  she  went  to  her  bed  with- 
out the  least  relief ;  the  next  day  she  did  the  same ; 
the  third  morning  I  found  her  in  that  state  of  patient 
suffering,  with  her  mind  fully  made  up  to  die,  without 
making  any  further  effort. 

These  facts  are  recorded  to  show  the  incomprehen- 
sible features  of  that  famine;  and  to  inquire  of  the 
Christian,  the  philosopher,  and  the  physiologist,  what  is 
the  nature  of  that  kind  of  suffering,  which  could  bring 
the  mind  into  such  a  cool  passive  frame,  especially  to 
operate  so  upon  a  nation  naturally  impetuous  in  their 
passions,  and  keenly  alive  to  the  tendercst  sensibilities 
of  the  heart.  Was  it  their  hereditary  suffering  that 
had  become  a  second  nature — was  it  the  peculiarity 
belonging  to  hunger  alone — or  was  it  their  religion,  that 
had  produced  that  submissiveness  which  overcame  the 
natural  propensities,  and  brought  them  into  passive 
obedience,  when  the  hand  of  affliction  pressed  them 
sore? 

My  first  donation  was  Indian  meal,  with  a  few 
pounds  of  money.  A  store-room  was  made  of  my 
lodging  apartment,  which  was  three  floors  from  the 
ground  ;  the  carpet  was  removed ;  the  meal  which  had 
been  put  in  sacks,  by  the  order  of  government,  was 
getting  heated,  and  much  of  it  must  be  emptied.  The 
government  had,  for  reasons  which  are  not  fully  un- 
derstood by  all,  sent  to  Ireland  sacks  which  were  sold 
for  half-a-crown  each — the  meal  was  taken  from  the 
barrels  and  deposited  in  them,  which  answered  two 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


61 


purposes,  it  made  sale  for  thousands  of  sacks,  at  a 
tolerable  profit,  and  was  an  effectual  method  of  heating 
the  meal,  which  soon  gathered  dampness,  then  became 
mouldy  and  wholly  unfit  for  use.  The  hungry,  in  some 
cases,  took  it  gladly;  the  consequences  in  many  in- 
stances were  fatal,  producing  a  state  of  the  system 
often  beyond  the  power  of  nature  or  medicine  to  cure. 

The  meal  sent  from  New  York  was  of  the  best  kind, 
the  hull  being  taken  off,  and  the  meal  kiln-dried, 
which  had  it  been  left  in  barrels,  would  have  remained 
for  a  year  or  more  in  good  order.  This,  the  govern- 
ment, being  unacquainted  with  the  nature  of  the  article, 
probably  did  not  understand.  If  the  inquiry  be  made 
— Why  did  the  government  interfere  with  donations 
sent  to  the  "  Dublin  Central  Committee,"  as  dona- 
tions ? — the  answer  can  only  be,  that  they  must  have 
acted  upon  one  of  two  principles ;  that  as  they  paid 
the  freight  of  the  American  grants,  they  had  a  right  to 
use  a  little  dictation  in  the  arrangement,  in  order  to 
secure  a  partial  remuneration ;  or,  they  must  have  acted 
upon  the  principle,  that  their  interference  would  for- 
ward the  exertions  making  in  behalf  of  their  subjects. 
Is  the  inquiry  made — What  became  of  the  barrels? 
— why  every  commercial  man  knows  the  use  of  these 
articles  in  trade,  and  every  housekeeper  who  has  ever 
had  a  broken  one,  knows  the  convenience  of  making  a 
rapid  fire  to  hasten  her  dinner.  What  became  of  all 
the  tens  of  thousands  of  sacks,  or  in  other  words,  who 
paid  for  them?  For  one,  I  must  answer,  that  when 
mine  were  delivered  through  the  "  Central  Committee," 


62 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


a  promise  was  made,  that  the  money  paid  for  them 
should  be  refunded  when  the  sacks  were  returned. 
This  was  immediately  done ;  but  the  money  was  with- 
held with  no  other  explanation,  but  that  I  must  sell 
meal  enough  to  pay  for  them.  This  meal  was  the  prop- 
erty of  the  poor,  and  a  property  most  sacred,  because 
life  was  suspended  on  it,  and  the  meal  was  sent  in  the 
best  manner  to  preserve  it,  and  taking  it  out  injured  it 
most  seriously,  and  sometimes  fatally,  and  the  article 
taken  from  their  hungry  mouths  to  pay  for  sacks,  was, 
besides  robbing  them  of  their  own,  deducting  so  much 
from  life.  I  could  not,  I  dare  not,  and  I  did  not 
comply. 

This  circumstance  is  important,  not  only  because 
it  involves  a  great  principle,  but  as  furnishing  a  solu- 
tion, as  far  as  it  goes,  why  the  poor  were  so  little  ben- 
efited by  the  bounties  sent  them  from  abroad.  The 
hungry,  it  should  be  borne  in  mind,  for  whom  these 
donations  were  sent,  had  no  control  of  what  was  vir- 
tually their  own  exclusively,  but  must  be  content  to 
receive  it  by  proxy,  in  great  or  small  parcels,  in  a  good 
or  bad  state,  at  the  dispenser's  option;  consequently, 
they  did  not  always  have  what  belonged  to  them,  and 
if  the  meal  and  rice  paid  for  the  sacks,  as  mine  were 
required  to  do,  a  great  deduction  must  be  made  from 
the  original  amount.  I  once  heard  a  woman  observe, 
whose  husband  had  large  donations  intrusted  to  him, 
that  they  had  £200  worth  of  sacks,  which  must  be 
paid  for  out  of  the  meal,  as  they  could  not  do  it. 
These  two  facts  are  the  only  tangible  ones  on  this  sub- 


\ 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  63 

ject,  which  came  under  my  cognizance.  I  name  them, 
not  to  expose  faults  which  should  be  concealed,  nor  to 
find  fault  for  the  gratification  of  doing  so ;  but  reading 
in  a  book  often  quoted  for  its  veracity,  that  "  on  the 
side  of  the  oppressor  there  was  power,  but  they  had  no 
comforter,"  conscience  compels  me  to  throw  into  the 
scale  every  particle  of  truth  which  belongs  to  the  poor, 
who  have  been  so  much  accused  of  ingratitude  toward 
their  benefactors.  They  never  were  ungrateful  to  their 
real  benefactors ;  but  second-handed  ones,  like  me,  who 
had  power  intrusted,  did  not  all  of  them  act  wisely, 
nor  for  the  best  good  of  the  poor  at  all  times.  Some 
of  this  was  ignorance  ;  some  who  did  not  know  how  to 
prepare  the  food  sent  it  to  them  in  the  most  economical 
way;  and  others,  who  had  never  felt  hunger,  took 
care  to  guard  their  own  stomachs  in  good  time  against 
its  attacks,  which  necessarily  required  much  free  feed- 
ing and  drinking  to  keep  up  health  and  strength  for  the 
arduous  work ;  consequently  all  this  caused  delay,  and 
twenty-four,  forty-eight,  and  often  more  hours,  were 
the  starving  obliged  to  wait  till  their  time  should  come 
to  be  served. 

My  labors  were  constant,  but  not  complex,  having 
arranged  that  eight  in  the  morning  must  be  the  time 
for  giving  the  donations,  and  that  a  delay  till  nine  on 
the  part  of  the  beneficiaries,  would  debar  them  the 
twenty -four  hours'  supply.  They  had  all  been  lectured 
and  duly  trained  previously,  that  if  any  appeared  dirty, 
or  brought  a  fresh  beneficiary  without  my  knowledge, 
they  should  forfeit  their  own  donations.    The  require- 


64 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


mcnt  of  ciglit  o'clock  attendance  was  necessary,  becauso 
my  visits  in  Cook  street  were  requisite  through  the 
day,  and  I  was  obliged  to  rise  at  four  in  the  morning 
to  copy  manuscript  and  correct  proof  sheets  till  seven ; 
then  my  penny  roll  was  taken,  and  all  put  in  due  read- 
iness for  the  distribution.  The  rooms  below  me  were 
occupied  as  offices,  which  were  opened  at  nine,  and  the 
appearance  of  bare  feet,  tatters,  and  sacks  of  meal, 
would  not  be  at  all  in  unison  with  the  refinement  of 
gentlemen ;  and  above- all  it  was  done  so  early,  that  the 
train  of  beggars,  which  would  have  been  drawn  at  any 
other  hour,  was  avoided.  Thus,  every  hour  was  time 
occupied,  without  the  least  self-denial.  The  greatest 
suffering  was,  during  the  few  hours  devoted  to  sleep, 
when  I  was  occasionally  awakened  by  hearing  some 
moan  of  distress  under  my  window.  My  lodging-places 
in  Ireland  had  been  sometimes  of  quite  a  peculiar  kind  5 
and  here,  in  the  beautiful  city  of  Dublin,  in  a  tall  house 
overlooking  the  Liffey,  was  my  proud  heritage — my  bed 
was  a  short  sofa,  or  apology  for  one,  placed  in  the 
middle  of  barrels  of  meal,  spread  upon  blankets  on  the 
floor,  and  one  crazy  old  chair,  which  served  to  make 
out  my  lodging  at  night,  and  provide  a  scat  while  copy- 
ing manuscripts  ;  an  old  deal  table,  with  a  New  York 
Tribune  for  a  table-cloth,  made  up  the  furniture  of 
that  happy  room.  But  this  bliss  was  limited,  every 
day  the  quantity  of  meal  lessened,  and  my  purse  grew 
lighter.  The  poor  looked  on,  and  said,  "  Praise  God, 
we  shall  all  be  destrawed;"  but  God  was  better  to 
them  than  their  fears — they  did  not  die. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


65 


Mine  was  more  than  a  happy  lot.  Never  before  in 
all  my  privations  in  Ireland,  had  I  tested  the  value  of 
being  early  trained  under  the  discipline  of  a  rational 
mother,  who  fitted  me,  when  a  child,  for  the  exigencies 
of  life ;  who  not  only  by  precept  taught  me,  that  in 
going  through  the  journey  of  this  world  I  should  meet 
with  rough  roads  and  stormy  weather,  and  not  always 
have  a  covered  carriage  ;  that  sometimes  I  should  have 
a  hot  supper,  sometimes  a  cold  one — sometimes  a  wel- 
come greeting,  and  sometimes  a  repulsive  one ;  but  she 
had  instructed  me  too,  by  precept  and  example,  that 
my  hands  were  to  be  employed  in  all  that  was  useful, 
and  that  idleness  was  both  disgraceful  and  sinful.  This 
practical  knowledge  was  never  more  extensively  useful 
to  me  than  now ;  knowing  how  to  prepare  the  Indian 
meal  and  rice  so  that  it  was  palatable,  and  no  waste. 
Yet  with  these  appliances,  the  meal  at  last  failed.  No 
skill  in  cooking  would  make  it  last  like  the  widow's  barrel ; 
and  though  I  had  learned  not  to  distrust,  yet  it  cannot 
be  said  that  I  felt  the  same  animation  in  giving  out  the 
last  day's  mess  as  the  first.  I  had  a  little  money  left, 
and  the  weather  was  getting  warmer  :  a  portion,  at  least, 
of  what  had  been  wanted  for  fuel,  could  be  reserved  for 
food.  I  hoped  that  on  the  ocean  there  might  be  some- 
thing destined  for  me  ;  though  not  the  least  intimation 
was  given  to  these  poor  ones,  but  they  were  urged  to 
apply  to  some  of  the  Relief  Associations. 

One  unfortunate  man  was  the  only  one  that  died  who 
had  received  any  aid  from  me  ;  and  his  life  was  for- 
getfully left  to  go  gradually  out,  when  it  might  have 


66 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


been  saved.  A- curate  called  and  found  him  recruiting 
from  the  last  stage  of  starvation  in  which  I  first  found 
him,  and  kindly  gave  him  a  little  money  and  food, 
promising  that  he  would  provide  for  him  in  future,  and 
relieve  me,  as  so  many  were  on  my  hands.  The  curate 
forgot  him.  Three  weeks  after  I  called  to  see  him ; — 
a  girl  of  two  years  was  dying  on  a  litter  of  straw  in  the 
corner,  nestled  by  the  emaciated  father,  who  was  too 
weak  to  know  the  suffering  of  his  child ;  and  in  two 
days  they  were  both  dead.  He  had  been  "  forgotten 
by  his  neighbors,"  his  wife  was  in  the  hospital ;  he  sat 
waiting,  as  was  common,  in  patient  hope,  till  death 
relieved  him. 

Cases  of  death  were  not  so  common  in  Dublin  as  in 
many  cities  ;  the  Society  of  Friends  did  much  to  stay 
the  plague,  and  their  work  was  carried  on  by  different 
means  ;  their  laborers,  in  most  cases,  were  volunteers, 
who  asked  no  reward  but  that  of  doing  good.  How 
many  of  the  poor  bless  the  name  of  William  Forster, 
and  Joseph  Crosfield,  from  England,  for  their  labors  of 
love  ;  who,  on  the  28th  of  December,  1846,  reached 
Dublin,  made  their  object  known  to  that  Committee, 
whose  views  and  operations  harmonized,  and  thence 
they  proceeded  on  their  mission  of  love  and  mercy. 
Their  graphic  report  is  before  the  world,  as  well  as 
others  of  that  denomination  of  Christians,  James  Luke, 
Marcus  Goodbody,  William  Dillwyn  Sims,  and  Wil- 
liam TQdhuntcr.  These  men,  moved  by  high  and  lofty 
feelings,  spent  no  time  in  idle  commenting  on  the  Pro- 
testant or  Papist  faith — the  Radical,  Whig,  or  Tory 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


67 


politics  ;  but  looked  at  things  as  they  were,  and  faith- 
fully recorded  what  they  saw.    Not  only  did  they  re- 
cord, but  they  relieved.    They  talked  and  wrote,  but 
acted  more  ;  and  such  a  lasting  impression  have  their 
labors  left,  that  the  next  summer,  as  I  followed  in  their 
wake  through  the  country,  the  name  of  the  "  blessed 
William  Forster"  was  on  the  lips  of  the  poor  cabiners, 
and  it  was  from  their  testimony  that  his -name  and 
good  deeds  first  reached  me.    William  Bennett,  too, 
passed  six  weeks  in  Ireland,  and  a  clear  and  concise 
account  was  recorded  by  himself,  of  the  state  of  the 
famine;  though  his  own  beneficence,  which  was  not 
scanty,  has  not  been  definitely  known,  because  he  acted 
as  an  individual ;  therefore  he  was  not  responsible  to 
any  society.    As  the  pestilence  followed  the  famine,  the 
entire  country  seemed  to  be  sinking  into  the  vortex, 
and  a  knowledge  of  Ireland  was  gaining  by  all  classes 
of  people,  both  in  and  out  of  the  country.    An  innova- 
tion was  made,  promising  good  results,  into  the  long- 
established  habits  and  condition  of  that  people,  which 
nothing  before  had  done.    Poverty  was  divested  of 
every  mask  ;  and  from  the  mud  cabin  to  the  estatecl 
gentleman's  abode,  all  strangers  who  wished,  without 
the  usual  circuitous  ceremony,  could  gain  access.  The 
landlord,  who  had  long  sported  at  his  ease,  was  begin- 
ning to  pay  a  penalty  of  which  he  had  never  dreamed  ; 
the  tree,  which  was  planted  centuries  ago,  was  now  be- 
ginning to  yield  an  exuberant  crop  ;  the  starved  tenants 
are  driven  into  the  "  Union,"  or  turned  defenseless 
into  the  storm,  and,  in  either  case,  the  rents  were  left 


68 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


unpaid.  The  landlord  growls,  but  growls  in  vain  :  the 
"  lazy  dogs,"  who  are  not  in  the  poor-house,  drawing 
enormous  rates  from  his  extensive  farms,  are  at  his 
doors,  begging  bread,  or  lying  dead  under  his  windows, 
waiting  for  "  the  board  to  be  put  on  'em,"  as  they 
called  a  coffin.  Coffins  were  now  becoming  scarce, 
and  in  the  mountainous  regions  and  islands,  two  rough 
boards,  with  the  corpse,  in  the  rags  which  were  about 
it  when  the  breath  departed,  placed  between  these,  and 
a  straw  rope  wound  about,  was  the  coveted  boon  which 
clung  to  them  to  the  last. 

The  winter  passed,  but  the  spring  brought  no  fresh 
hopes ;  onward  was  the  fearful  march — many  faces 
that  were  ruddy,  and  limbs  that  were  robust,  and 
hearts  that  had  scarcely  had  a  fear  that  the  wolf  would 
enter  their  dwelling,  now  began  to  fade,  stumble,  and 
finally  sink  under  the  pursuer.  My  purse  was  low,  my 
meal  gone,  when  a  letter,  the  choicest  and  best,  arrived, 
written  by  a  teacher  of  a  pauper  school  in  New  York, 
and  signed  by  the  Corresponding  Committee  there  of 
the  Dublin  Friends'  Society,  transmitting  me  a  few 
barrels  of  meal,  from  the  children  of  that  pauper 
school.  This  was  an  offering  richer  than  all,  it  was 
the  interest  of  the  widow's  mite,  coming  through  the 
channel  of  the  orphans,  whose  willing  hearts  and  ready 
hands  had  gathered  from  their  scanty  comforts  a  few 
pounds  without  solicitation,  and  begged  the  privilege  to 
send  it  to  me.  It  came :  I  had  previously  been  in- 
formed that  a  school  in  the  poorest  convent  in  Dublin 
was  in  a  state  of  the  greatest  suffering.    These  schools 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


69 


•were  composed  of  children  who  had  no  means  of  sup- 
port, many  of  them  orphans,  or  the  offspring  of  parents 
reduced  to  beggary,  and  gathered  into  convents  and 
other  schools  of  charity,  where  they  were  fed  once 
a  day.  The  nuns  were  of  the  order  belonging  to 
the  poor,  and  in  time  of  plenty  had  only  been  able 
to  feed  sixteen  daily  ;  and  when  some  hundreds  were 
added,  the  distress  was  almost  overwhelming.  This 
donation,  coming  from  children  of  the  poorest  emigrants 
in  New  York,  particularly  belonged  to  such  as  were  in 
like  condition,  for  if  such  children  were  turned  from 
the  schools,  man}  ,  and  most  of  them,  must  inevitably 
perish,  notwithstanding  the  Friends'  Society  were  act- 
ing with  the  greatest  vigilance.  The  British  Associ- 
ation, too,  was  in  motion  ;  besides  the  Government  had 
been  bountiful.  America  was  doing  much — private 
individuals,  of  the  Irish  in  America,  and  in  all  other 
countries  where  they  were  scattered,  were  sending  one 
continued  train  of  remittances,  to  the  utter  astonish- 
ment of  the  postmasters  ;  yet  death  sharpened  his 
teeth  daily,  for  new  victims.  With  gladness  of  heart 
I  hastened  to  the  committee-rooms — presented  the  let- 
ter— was  requested  to  wait  an  answer  till  the  next  day ; 
the  next  day  another  day  was  demanded ;  called  the 
third  day,  and  was  denied  in  toto.  The  clerk  returned 
the  letter  without  an  explanation,  only  saying,  that 
"  the  committee  had  concluded  not  to  grant  it."  Had 
I  that  moment  been  summoned  by  a  policeman,  to  ap- 
pear before  a  court,  and  answer,  to  a  charge  of  swind- 
ling or  fraud,  I  could  not  have  been  more  astonished, 


70 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


and  certainly  not  so  disappointed,  for  my  heart  had 
been  most  intensely  fixed  on  this,  as  the  most  sacred 
offering  ever  sent  me.  The  deep  sense  of  injustice 
which  was  felt,  drew  these  remarks  : — That  if  the 
Americans  had  misplaced  their  confidence,  in  sending 
remittances  through  that  channel,  I  was  sorry  that  I 
had  requested  them  to  send  mine  in  that  way,  and 
would  immediately  write  them  to  desist.  No  other  ex- 
planation was  given  than  a  plain  decided  denial ;  but 
when  I  had  passed  the  door,  the  solution  began  to  open. 
The  fault  was  mine,  God  had  sent  me  to  Ireland,  in 
His  own  way,  and  instructed  me  to  lean  entirely  on 
Him  ;  His  promises  had  never  failed  toward  me — 
nothing  had  been  wanted,  but  had  been  supplied  to  my 
wonderment ;  and  now,  when  daily  He  had  been  ex- 
plaining for  what  purpose  I  had  been  sent  hither,  that 
I  should  lean  to  the  creature,  and  ask  aid,  which  in 
reality  was  not  needed,  and  only  retarded  my  opera- 
tions, He  had  sent  a  rebuke  upon  my  unbelief,  which 
silenced  the  severity  I  at  first  felt  toward  those  instru- 
ments in  whose  hands  I  had  foolishly  placed  myself.  I 
do  not  censure  them,  they  acted  from  motives  no  mat- 
ter to  me ;  and  God  might  have  used  them  as  a  cor- 
rective most  effectual,  because  in  them  I  had  placed 
both  confidence  and  power,  which  were  in  safer  hands 
before.  Man  may  do  well,  but  God  can  do  better  ; 
and  it  would  be  fulsome  flattery  to  say,  that  the  "  Cen- 
tral Committee  of  Dublin"  were  infallible ;  and  cruel 
injustice  to  assert,  that  they  did  not  act  effectually, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


71 


liberally,  and,  taken  as  a  whole,  do  the  best  that  was 
done. 

On  my  way  home,  with  my  rejected  letter  in  my 
hand,  Richard  Webb  met  me,  took  the  letter,  and  en- 
tered the  committee-room ;  what  barriers  he  removed 
I  know  not,  but  the  meal  was  sent.  This  was  the  only 
co-working  that  I  attempted  in  Ireland  ;  not  because 
my  strength  and  wisdom  were  complete,  but  because 
they  were  so  inefficient,  that  an  Almighty  arm  was 
requisite  to  effect  the  object. 

The  next  morning  early  I  went  to  the  convent.  They 
knew  not  of  my  object ;  but  learning  that  I  was  an 
American, — u  Bless  God,"  said  the  Abbess,  "  that  I 
see  one  of  that  nation,  to  say  how  much  we  owe  in  this 
convent  to  their  liberality.  These  children  here  must 
have  died,  but  for  what  they  have  sent  them ;  and  this 
morning  they  have  assembled  to  receive  the  last  bit  we 
can  give,  and  we  have  been  saying  that  we  should  be 
ashamed  to  ask  from  the  Americans  any  more,  had  we 
an  opportunity  to  do  so."  They  then  led  me  into  the 
school-room,  and  called  the  attention  of  the  children  to 
see  one  of  that  kind  nation  who  had  fed  them  through 
the  winter,  and  that  through  me  they  must  send  thanks 
to  my  people.  They  were  then  told  what  the  pauper 
children  of  New  York  had  sent — children  like  them, 
who  were  poor,  but  who  saved  all  the  pence  they  could 
procure,  and  had  sent  the  little  gathering  to  them.  I 
have  not  the  least  doubt,  had  the  benevolent  friends  of 
that  "  Dublin  Central  Committee"  witnessed  the  happy 
scene  of  joy  and  gratitude  which  was  there  manifested, 


72 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


they  would  have  better  understood  my  feelings,  and  re- 
joiced too. 

July  6th,  I  took  the  steamer  for  Belfast.  Here  was 
a  work  going  on,  which  was  paramount  to  all  I  had  seen. 
Women  were  at  work  ;  and  no  one  could  justly  say  that 
they  were  dilatory  or  inefficient.  Never  in  Ireland, 
since  the  famine,  was  such  a  happy  combination  of  all 
parties,  operating  so  harmoniously  together,  as  was  here 
manifested.  Not  in  the  least  like  the  women  of  Dublin, 
who  sheltered  themselves  behind  their  old  societies — 
most  of  them  excusing  themselves  from  personal  labor, 
feeling  that  a  few  visits  to  the  abodes  of  the  poor  were 
too  shocking  for  female  delicacy  to  sustain  ;  and  though 
occasionally  one  might  be  prevailed  upon  to  go  out,  yet 
but  for  a  few  days  could  I  ever  persuade  any  to  ac- 
company me.  Yet  much  was  given  in  Dublin  ;  for  it  is 
a  city  celebrated  for  its  benevolence,  and  deservedly  so, 
as  far  as  giving  goes.  But  giving  and  doing  are  an- 
tipodes in  her  who  has  never  been  trained  to  domestic 
duties.  The  faithful  John  Gregg  thundered  his  power- 
ful anathemas  on  the  indolent  in  God's  vineyard,  who 
labored  not  among  the  poor,  nor  descended  to  the  duties 
of  women  in  emergencies  like  this.  They  heard  it : 
some  said  it  was  beautiful ;  some  declared  he  was  the 
most  witty  man  they  ever  heard ;  and  others  said  his 
remarks  were  quite  amusing  ; — but  how  many  ever 
through  the  week  were  influenced  to  practice  his  preach- 
ing, eternity  will  best  tell. 

The  Belfast  Ladies'  Association  embraced  an  object 
which  lives  and  tells,  and  will  continue  to  do  so,  when 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


73 


they  who  formed  it  shall  be  no  more  on  earth.  It  was 
on  January  1st,  1847,  that  the  first  meeting  was  held 
in  the  Commercial  Buildings,  by  ladies  of  all  religious 
denominations ;  and  they  there  resolved  to  form  a  So- 
ciety, for  the  purpose  of  raising  a  fund  to  be  appropri- 
ated to  afflicted  localities,  without  any  regard  to  religious 
distinctions.  Visiting  soon  commenced,  under  the  titles 
of  Corresponding  Committee,  Industrial  Committee, 
Clothing  Committee,  and  Collecting  Committee.  With- 
out inserting  the  names  of  these  indefatigable  ladies,  it 
may  be  recorded  that  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
were  associated  in  this  work  ;  the  highways  and  hedges 
were  faithfully  visited,  the  poor  sought  out,  their  con- 
dition cared  for,  and  the  children  of  the  most  degraded 
class  were  taken  and  placed  in  a  school,  which  continues 
to  flourish  on  an  extensive  scale.  This  school  lias  the 
benefit  of  being  taught  the  elementary  branches  of  an 
education,  and  the  most  useful  needlework  and  knitting ; 
and  the  squalid  looks  of  the  children  were  soon  ex- 
changed for  health,  and  that  indifference  to  appearance 
which  the  hungry,  neglected  poor  soon  wear,  was,  like 
magic  almost,  transformed  into  a  becoming  tidiness  and 
self-respect. 

Though  many  had  never  before  known  anything  of 
sewing  or  knitting,  yet  they  soon  produced  specimens 
praiseworthy  to  teacher  and  scholar,  and  by  this  in- 
dustry earned  a  little  each  week  which  they  could  call 
their  own.  Other  schools  of  the  kind  multiplied  in  al- 
most every  part  of  Ireland,  especially  in  Connaught, 
where  the  exertions  of  Dr.  Edgar,  who  explored  this 
4 


74 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


province,  have  "been  a  great  blessing  in  this  respect. 
Many  a  poor  child  by  these  schools  has  been  made  to 
look  up  with  a  hope  which  was  entirely  new — a  hope 
that  in  after  days  she  might  wear  a  shawl  and  a  bonnet, 
write  a  good  letter,  make  a  dress,  &c.  The  happy 
effects  of  industry  on  the  minds  of  the  children  were 
striking.  That  passive  indifference  to  all  but  how  a 
morsel  of  bread  should  be  obtained,  was  exchanged  for 
a  becoming  manner  and  animated  countenance,  lighted 
up  by  the  happy  consciousness  that  industry  was  a 
stepping-stone  which  would  justly  and  honorably  give 
them  a  place  among  the  comfortable  and  respectable  of 
the  earth.  And  again,  to  quote  Dr.  Edgar,  every  look 
seemed  to  say,  "  They  have  had  in  their  work  a  full 
reward."  And  he  adds,  "  Thus  an  independent,  self- 
supporting,  and  useful  generation  may  be  raised,  who 
will  be  less  at  the  mercy  of  changing  seasons  ;  and  who, 
when  the  day  of  trouble  comes,  will  have  some  resources 
on  which  to  draw." 

My  greatest  object  in  writing  this  sketch  of  the 
famine  being  to  show  its  effects  on  all  classes,  rather 
than  to  detail  scenes  of  death  by  starvation,  a  few 
sketches  only  of  this  kind  in  passing  along  will  be  given, 
for  the  purpose  of  illustrating  the  principle  of  mind  as 
it  developes  itself  in  the  varied  changes  through  which 
it  is  called  to  pass.  These  Industrial  Schools,  which  I 
afterward  visited  when  passing  through  Connaught  in 
1847  and  1848,  were  subjects  of  the  deepest  interest ; 
for  to  me  they  told  the  whole  story  of  Ireland's  wrongs 
and  Ireland's  remedy.    They  told  me,  that  when  usur- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


75 


pation  robbed  them  of  the  means  of  industry,  for  their 
own  good,  that  oppression  confined  this  industry  to  the 
personal  benefits  of  the  oppressor,  and  thus  deadened 
every  natural  excitement  to  labor,  which  promised  no- 
thing but  a  bare  subsistence  among  the  children  of  men 
who  looked  down  with  contempt  upon  them,  because, 
by  this  "hewing  of  wood  and  drawing  of  water,"  they 
had  been  kept  in  degraded,  unrequited  servitude ;  but 
now  that  an  industry,  founded  on  righteous  principles, 
was  springing  up — an  industry  that  not  only  rewarded 
but  elevated — the  convenient  term,  "  lazy  Irish,"  was 
hiding  its  slanderous  head. 

The  Belfast  Association  felt  this  more  and  more,  as 
they  received  returns  from  Connaught  of  the  happy 
effects  of  these  schools,  and  their  hearts  were  more  and 
more  encouraged  in  pursuing  these  labors  of  love. 
They  met  often,  they  planned,  they  talked  together  of 
the  best  means  to  accomplish  the  most  good ;  and  one 
great  beauty  of  these  meetings  was,  no  one  said  to  her 
sister,  "  Stand  by,  for  I  am  holier  than  thou."  Dif- 
ferent parties  who  had  never  mingled,  now  felt  one 
common  interest.  She  who  had  much  brought  in  of  her 
abundance,  and  she  who  had  little  brought  in  her  mite. 
While  these  benevolent  women  were  teaching  the  prac- 
tice of  industry  to  the  poor,  they  found  the  benefit  react 
upon  themselves,  for  they  too  must  be  industrious. 
This  new,  this  arduous,  long-neglected  work,  required 
not  only  their  skill  but  their  energies,  to  put  and  keep 
the  vast  machinery  in  motion.  Money  was  not  all  that 
was  requisite  in  the  work.    The  abodes  of  the  most 


76 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


wretched  must  be  visited ;  and,  though  before  the  fa- 
mine they  had  scarcely  dreamed  of  the  suffering  that 
was  in  their  city,  and  could  not  believe  that  their  intel- 
ligent, industrious  town  was  in  much  real  want,  when 
they  found  that  many  uncomplaining  children  of  distress 
had  been  struggling  for  life  long  before  the  famine,  they 
doubled  if  possible  their  energies,  and  cheerfully  showed 
by  individual  exertion,  that  if  they  had  previously  over- 
looked this  pleasing  duty,  they  would  repair  as  far  as 
possible  all  that  had  been  neglected  before  on  their 
part.  The  men,  too,  showed  themselves  efficient  co- 
workers ;  they  contributed,  many  of  them  bountifully, 
and  some  visited  too.  They  erected  a  bath-house  for 
the  benefit  of  laborers  and  the  poor  of  all  classes,  to 
which  was  attached  a  laundress,  that  the  poor  in  the 
most  economical  way  could  be  provided  with  materials 
for  this  important  handmaid  to  health  and  respecta- 
bility— cleanliness. 

I  loved  to  linger  in  Belfast.  All  seemed  to  be  life, 
and  life  to  some  purpose.  All  hearts  seemed  to  be 
awakened  to  one  and  the  same  object,  to  do  good  most 
efficiently ;  and  one  peculiar  trait  was  here  perceivable 
— none  of  that  desire  for  who  should  be  greatest  seemed 
prevalent.  A  mutual  confidence  prevailed.  One  would 
tell  me  enthusiastically,  that  she  did  not  know  how  the 
association  could  manage  without  Maria  Webb ;  her 
judgment  was  always  the  turning  point  in  all  difficulties. 
Maria  Webb  would  expatiate  on  the  efficiency  of  Mary 
Ireland,  as  a  visitor  and  manager ;  a  third  would  re- 
gret that  the  indefatigable  Miss  M'Cracken,  she  feared, 


FAMINE   IH  IRELAND. 


77 


would  soon  leave  us,  as  her  age  had  passed  the  line  of 
three-score  years  and  ten  ;  another  expatiated  on  the 

faithful  Miss   ,  who  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  but 

whose  labors  of  love  had  been  untiring  ;  and  she  was 
quite  sorry  that  difference  in  religious  profession  had 
so  long  kept  so  many  useful  members  at  a  distance, 
&c.  This  to  a  stranger  could  probably  be  viewed  with 
a  sober,  impartial  eye,  that  those  moving  in  the  ma- 
chinery could  not  ;  and  to  me  it  looked  like  a  heavenly 
influence  distilling  unperceived  into  the  hearts  of  all, 
like  the  dew,  which  falls  alike  on  the  garden  flower  or 
mountain  weed. 

Another  most  valuable  principle  was  illustrated  by 
this  famine,  which  a  God-loving  heart  must  admire, 
viz.,  the  difference  between  a  hireling  and  a  voluntary 
worker,  and  so  clear  was  this  difference,  that  whenever, 
in  going  the  length  of  Ireland,  I  met  any  of  either  class 
upon  coaches,  in  trains,  visiting  the  poor,  or  distribut- 
ing donations  in  soup-shops,  or  elsewhere,  a  mistake 
was  not  once  made  in  pronouncing  who  was  a  paid  offi- 
cer, or  who  was  there  moved  by  an  innate  voice,  to  do 
what  he  could  for  the  poor.  Allow  me  to  dwell  a  little 
on  this  and  make  it  as  clear  as  I  can. 

An  officer  paid  by  government  was  generally  well 
paid,  consequently  he  could  take  the  highest  seat  in  a 
public  conveyance,  he  sought  for  the  most  comfortable 
inns,  where  he  could  secure  the  best  dinner  and  wines  ; 
he  inquired  the  state  of  the  people,  and  did  not  visit  the 
dirty  hovels  himself  when  he  could  find  a  menial  who 
would  for  a  trifle  perform  it ;  and  though  sometimes 


78 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


when  accident  forced  him  in  contact  with  the  dying  or 
dead,  his  pity  was  stirred,  it  was  mingled  with  the 
curse  which  always  follows  :  u  Laziness  and  filth,  and  he 
wondered  why  the  dirty  wretches  had  lived  so  long  ; 
and  he  hoped  this  lesson  would  teach  them  to  work  in 
future,  and  lay  up  something  as  other  people  did." 
When  his  plan  of  operation  was  prepared,  his  shop 
opened,  and  books  arranged,  and  the  applications  of  the 
starving  were  numerous,  he  peremptorily  silenced  this, 
and  sent  away  that  without  relief;  many  who  had 
walked  miles  without  food  for  twenty-four  hours,  and 
some  died  on  their  way  home,  or  soon  after  reaching  it ; 
and  when  the  story  was  told  him,  and  he  entreated  to 
look  into  the  cases  of  such,  the  answer  was,  that  he 
must  be  true  to  the  government,  and  not  give  out  to 
any  whose  names  he  had  not  entered  into  the  books  ;  if 
they  died  how  could  he  help  it,  &c.  If  all  did  not  do 
precisely  as  has  been  stated,  all  manifested  a  similar 
spirit,  more  or  less. 

The  Hon.  William  Butler,  who  was  appointed  as  an 
overseer  by  government,  was  an»  exception,  so  far  as 
language  was  concerned  ;  he  spoke  feelingly,  but  his 
personal  habits  were  not  brought  to  that  test  of  many 
with  a  lower  station  ;  he  acted  kindly  as  an  inspector, 
and  devised  the  best  means  which  he  could,  and  I  was 
informed,  when  making  the  inquiry  respecting  his  dis- 
tinguished humanity,  that  he  accepted  his  appointment 
from  principle,  and  not  from  necessity,  that  he  might 
see  that  justice  was  better  administered. 

Let  us  now  follow  the  self -moved  or  heavenly -moved 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


79 


donor.  He  was  found  mingling  with  the  poorest,  often 
taking  the  lowest  seat,  curtailing  all  unnecessary  ex- 
pense that  he  might  have  more  to  give,  seeking  out  the 
most  distressed  ;  looking  into  the  causes  of  distress,  that 
he  might  better  know  how  to  remove  them,  never  up- 
braiding with  harshness,  and  always  seeking  some  apol- 
ogy for  their  misdoings,  when  representing  their  case 
to  the  uninformed.  Many,  both  men  and  women, 
among  this  class,  took  most  responsible  donations  with- 
out any  reward,  and  acted  in  the  kindest  and  most 
judicious  manner  ;  always  minding  to  serve  first  those 
who  needed  most  and  had  come  the  farthest.  This 
kindly  spirit  was  reciprocated  at  once  by  the  poor,  and 
with  an  astonishing  discernment  they  often  manifested 
this  knowledge  ;  sometimes  much  to  the  uneasiness  of 
the  party  who  were  guilty.  Through  the  whole  of  the 
famine,  I  never  heard  any  of  the  poor  complain  of  one 
who  was  giving  from  his  own  purse,  and  seeking  out  his 
own  objects  ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  did  I  ever  hear 
one  say,  who  gave  him  true  benevolence,  that  he  ever 
met  ingratitude.  This  might  have  been,  but  I  speak 
only  from  personal  observation.' 

While  stopping  in  Belfast,  at  the  hospitable  u  White 
House,"  so  called,  owned  by  the  family  of  Grimshaws, 
I  became  acquainted  with  a  Miss  Hewitson,  whose 
father  resided  in  Donegal.  My  destiny  was  to  that 
county  ;  hearing  that  the  distress  there  was  very  great, 
I  wished  to  see  it. 

William  Bennett  and  his  son  had  visited  that  part, 
in  March,  distributing  donations  at  his  own  expense 


80 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


mostly,  and  his  painful  descriptions  had  awakened  a 
strong  desire  to  see  for  myself,  and  though  I  had  no 
means  in  hand,  I  had  reason  to  hope  that  there  might 
be  some  on  the  ocean.  I  took  the  coach  for  Derry,  a 
few  miles  from  that  town.  The  mother  of  Miss  Hewit- 
son  was  to  meet  me  in.  her  own  carriage,  and  conduct 
me  to  her  house  in  Rossgarrow.  Deny  had  not  suf- 
fered so  much  as  many  other  towns,  and  a  stranger 
passing  through  would  not  notice  any  particular  change 
from  its  condition  in  past  years.  But  this  little  relief 
was  only  to  make  what  followed  appear  the  more  pain- 
ful. Mrs.  Hewitson  met  me  with  her  son,  and  we  took 
tea  at  a  delightful  little  mansion  on  the  sloping  side  of 
one  of  Ireland's  green  lawns,  looking  down  upon  a 
beautiful  lake.  "  And  is  there,"  I  asked,  "  on  this 
pretty  spot,  misery  to  be  found  V — "'"Come  and  see," 
was  the  answer  of  my  kind  friend.  It  was  twilight 
when  we  stepped  into  the  carriage,  and  few  painful  ob- 
jects met  us  till  we  reached  her  dwelling. 

Her  paternal  cottage  was  nestled  in  a  pretty  wood, 
its  roof  thatched,  and  its  windows  shaded  by  the  creep- 
ing vine  in  front.  On  one  end,  a  window  gave  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  peeps  upon  a  lake  that  can  be  im- 
agined ;  and  the  back  contained  a  garden  which  was 
one  of  the  most  pleasant  retreats  I  had  met,  for  the 
gooseberry  was  just  ripe.  Here  had  this  discreet,  this 
"  virtuous  woman,"  lived,  and  by  precept  and  example 
trained  a  family  of  sons  and  daughters,  which  will, 
which  do  arise  and  call  her  blessed.  Her  husband  had 
been  an  officer,  and  was  then  receiving  a  small  pension, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


81 


and  during  the  first  season  of  the  famine  had  been  em- 
ployed by  government  as  an  overseer  of  the  Board  of 
Works.  His  heart  had  sickened  at  the  scenes  which 
came  under  his  eye,  some  sketches  of  which  have  been 
before  the  public. 

The  morning  lighted  up  a  pretty  cottage,  well  or- 
dered, and  the  breakfast-table  rjresented  a  treat  un- 
seen before  by  me  in  Ireland.  Instead  of  the  bread, 
butter,  tea,  and  egg,  which  are  the  height  of  the  best 
Irish  breakfast,  there  was  a  respectable  corn-cake, 
made  as  it  should  be,  suitable  accompaniments  of  all 
kinds,  with  the  best  of  cream  for  me  ;  and  were  it  not 
that  the  hungry  had  then  commenced  their  daily  usages 
of  assembling  in  crowds  about  the  house  for  food,  that 
breakfast  would  have  been  a  pleasant  one.  When  I 
ascertained  that  her  husband  had  been  in  America,  and 
from  him  she  had  been  told  of  the  virtues  of  corn-cake, 
and  that  her  skill  had  been  exercised  till  she  had 
brought  it  to  perfection — I  valued  it  if  possible  still 
more.  Had  the  Irish  mothers  throughout  Ireland  man- 
aged as  did  this  woman,  their  task  in  the  famine  would 
have  been  much  lighter — the  poor,  many  more  of  them, 
would  have  been  saved,  and  multitudes  who  have  gone 
down  might  have  retained  their  standing.  Had  the 
higher  classes  known  how  to  have  changed  the  meal 
into  the  many  palatable  shapes  contrived  by  this  eco- 
nomical housekeeper,  when  the  wheaten  loaf  was  so 
high,  immense  money  might  have  been  saved  to  all 
parties.    It  was  brought  in  such  disrepute  by  bad 

cooking,  that  many  would  be  ashamed  to  be  found  eat- 

.  4* 


82 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


ing  it,  and  one  man  who  was  begging  most  earnestly 
for  food,  when  offered  some  of  this  prepared  in  Irish 
style,  turned  away  in  contempt,  saying,  "  No,  thank 
God,  I've  never  been  brought  to  ate  the  yellcr  indian." 

This  industrious  woman,  like  Solomon's  prudent 
wife,  had  not  only  risen  "  while  it  was  yet  dark,"  to 
prepare  meat  for  her  household,  but  she  had  been  in 
her  meal-room  at  four  in  the  morning,  weighing  out 
meal  for  the  poor,  the  Society  of  Friends  in  Dublin 
having  furnished  her  with  grants.  This  I  found  was 
her  daily  practice,  while  the  poor  through  the  day  made 
the  habitation  a  nucleus  not  of  the  most  pleasant  kind. 
The  lower  window-frame  in  the  kitchen  was  of  board 
instead  of  glass,  this  all  having  been  broken  by  the 
pressure  of  faces  continually  there. 

Who  could  eat,  who  could  work,  who  could  read,  or 
who  could  play  in  such  circumstances  as  these  ?  Cer- 
tainly it  sometimes  seemed  that  the  sunshine  was 
changed,  that  the  rain  gave  a  stranger  pattering,  and 
truly,  that  the  wind  did  moan  most  dolefully.  The 
dogs  ceased  their  barking,  there  were  scarcely  any 
cocks  to  be  heard  crowing  in  the  morning,  and  the  glad- 
some mirth  of  children  everywhere  ceased.  0  !  ye, 
whose  nerves  are  disturbed  at  the  glee  of  the  loud- 
laughing  boy,  come  to  this  land  of  darkness  and  death, 
and  for  leagues  you  may  travel,  and  in  house  or  cabin, 
by  the  wayside,  on  the  hill-top,  or  upon  the  meadow, 
3^ou  shall  not  see  a  smile,  you  shall  not  see  the  sprightly 
foot  running  in  ecstacy  after  the  rolling  hoop,  leaping 
the  ditch  or  tossing  the  ball.    The  young  laughing  full 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


83 


faces,  and  brilliant  eyes,  and  buoyant  limbs,  had  be- 
come walking-skeletons  of  death  !  When  I  saw  one 
approaching,  with  his  emaciated  fingers  locked  together 
before  him,  his  body  in  a  bending  position,  as  all  gene- 
rally crawled  along,  if  I  had  neither  bread  nor  money 
to  give,  I  turned  from  the  path  ;  for,  instead  of  the 
"  God  save  ye  kindly,"  or  "  Ye  look  wary,  lady,"  which 
had  ever  been  the  salutation  to  me  on  the  mountains,  I 
knew  it  would  be  the  imploring  look  or  the  vacant 
sepulchral  stare,  which,  when  once  fastened  upon  you, 
leaves  its  impress  for  ever.  The  kind  Hewitsons 
seemed  not  only  to  anticipate  my  wants,  but  to  enter 
into  my  feelings  as  a  stranger  whose  heart  was  tortured 
with  unparalleled  scenes  of  suffering,  and  they  did  all  to 
make  my  stay  pleasant,  and  if  possible  to  draw  away 
my  mind  a  little  from  the  painful  objects  around  me. 
They  conducted  me  from  place  to  place,  and  showed 
me  much  of  the  beautiful  scenery  with  which  Donegal 
abounds,  as  well  as  all  Ireland.  Lakes  bountifully  dot 
this  part  of  Donegal.  Rathmelton,  Milford,  Letter- 
kenny,  Dunfanaghy,  all  lie  in  this  region,  as  well  as  a 
romantic  spot  on  the  sea-shore,  called  M'Sweenv's 
Gun,  so  called  on  account  of  the  report  that  the  sea 
makes  when  it  rushes  with  tremendous  force  under  the 
rock  which  overhangs  it,  and  through  which  a  round 
hole  has  been  made,  and  as  the  waves  dash,  shooting 
through,  high  into  the  air,  a  loud  report,  like  that  of  a 
gun,  is  heard ;  but  as  natural  curiosities  are  not  the 
object  of  this  sketch,  they  cannot  be  dwelt  upon  :  curi- 
ositios  of  a  most  unnatural  and  fearful  kind  have  fallen 


84 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


to  my  share.  As  fond  as  I  had  always  been  of  looking 
upon  the  grandeur  of  the  sea-coast  in  Ireland,  which 
has  no  rival  probably,  taken  as  a  whole ;  now  the  in- 
terest was  so  deadened,  by  the  absence  of  the  kindly 
children,  who  were  always  ready  to  point  out  every  spot 
of  interest,  and  give  its  name,  that  a  transient  look  suf- 
ficed. At  Lctterkenny,  the  Roman  Catholic  Bishop 
invited  us  to  his  house,  and  treated  us  with  much  cour- 
tesy ;  showed  us  his  robes  and  badges  of  honor,  given 
him  at  Rome  ;  and  though  he  knew  that  we  were  Pro- 
testants, yet  he  appeared  not  to  suspect  but  that  we 
should  be  as  deeply  interested  as  though  we  were  under 
his  jurisdiction.  Many  favorable  opportunities  present- 
ed, to  become  acquainted  with  the  effects  of  the  famine 
upon  the  Romish  priests.  Some  were  indefatigable,  and 
died  in  their  labors  ;  while  others  looked  more  passively 
on.  They  had  two  drawbacks  which  the  Protestants  in 
general  had  not. — First,  a  great  proportion  of  them  are 
quite  poor  ;  and  second,  they,  in  the  first  season  of  the 
famine,  were  not  intrusted  with  grants,"  as  the  Protest- 
ants were.  These  difficulties  operated  strongly  upon 
the  minds  of  the  benevolent  class  among  them.  One 
Protestant  clergyman  informed  me,  that  so  much  confi- 
dence had  he  in  the  integrity  of  the  Catholic  priest  in 
his  parish,  that  when  he  had  a  large  grant  sent  to  him, 
he  offered  as  much  of  it  to  the  priest  as  he  could  distri- 
bute, knowing,  he  added,  that  it  would  be  done  with  the 
greatest  promptitude  and  fidelity.  No  ministers  of  re- 
ligion in  the  world  know  as  much  of  their  people  as  do 
the  Catholics,  not  one  of  their  flock  is  forgotten,  scarce- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


85 


ly  by  name,  however  poor  or  degraded  ;  and  conse- 
quently when  the  famine  came,  they  had  not  to  search  out 
the  poor,  they  knew  the  identical  cabin  in  which  every 
starving  one  was  lying,  and  as  far  as  knowledge  was 
concerned  were  in  a  condition  to  act  most  effectually. 

My  next  visit  was  to  the  far-famed  Gweedore,  the 
estate  of  Lord  George  Hill.  This  gentleman  is  too 
well-known  to  need  a  description.  His  works  will  live 
when  he  is  where  the  "  wicked  cease  from  troubling." 
His  facts  on  Gweedore  are  the  most  amusing  of  any- 
thing I  have  read  on  the  habits  of  the  Irish ;  and  to 
understand  what  Lord  George  Hill  has  done,  whoever 
visits  that  spot  should  first  read  these  "facts,"  and 
then  all  objections  must  be  silenced  respecting  the  ca- 
pacity of  the  most  savage  of  that  nation  being  elevated. 
These  "facts"  I  had  never  read  till  some  time  after 
my  visit  there,  which  I  now  much  regret.  It  would  not 
be  supposed  that  during  a  famine  this  spot  could  be 
seen  to  much  advantage ;  but  there  was,  even  then,  a 
degree  of  comfort  which  did  not  exist  in  any  other  part 
I  had  seen.  It  lies  in  the  parish  of  Tullaghobegly,  on 
the  north-west  coast  of  Ireland,  where  the  wildest 
scenery  stretches  along  the  bold  coast,  in  many  places  ; 
and  where  it  would  seem  that  man,  unless  driven  from 
the  society  of  his  fellow-being,  would  never  think  of 
making  his  abode.  But  here  men  had  clustered,  and 
here  they  had  constructed  rude  huts3  of  loose  stone  or 
turf,  and  with  but  little  law,  they  were  a  "  law  to 
themselves,"  each  one  doing  as  he  listed.  The  system 
of  Rundale  prevailed,  "  one  tenant  had  his  proportion 


86 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


in  thirty  or  forty  different  places,  and  without  fences 
between  them  and  the  strips  were  often  so  small, 
that  half  a  stone  of  oats  would  sow  one  of  these  divisions ; 
and  these  "  Gweedore  facts"  tell  us  that  one  poor  man 
had  his  inheritance  in  thirty-two  different  places,  and 
abandoned,  in  despair,  the  effort  to  make  them  out. 
There  were  no  resident  landlords,  the  rent  was  paid 
any  how,  or  not  at  all,  as  the  tenant  was  disposed. 
Sometimes  a  little  was  picked  up,  as  they  termed  it,  by 
some  agent  going  from  cabin  to  cabin,  and  receiving 
what  each  might  please  to  give.  Their  evenings  were 
passed  in  each  other's  huts,  till  late  at  night,  telling 
stories,  drinking  potteen,  &c.  Perpetual  quarrels  arose 
from  the  Rundale  system ;  for  the  cattle,  on  a  certain 
day,  were  brought  from  the  mountain,  to  graze  on  the 
arable  land ;  and  if  Mikcy  or  Paddy  had  not  his  crops 
gathered,  they  were  injured,  and  then  a  fight  set  mat- 
ters at  rest  again.  The  animals,  too,  were  often  divid- 
ed, according  to  the  Rundale  system :  if  four  men,  for 
instance,  owned  a  horse,  each  must  provide  a  shoe ;  in 
one  case,  but  three  men  had  a  share  in  one,  consequent- 
ly the  unshod  foot  got  lame ;  a  dispute  arose,  one  of  the 
two  complained  to  a  magistrate,  that  he  had  kept  his 
foot  shod  decently,  and  "had  shod  the  fourth  foot 
twice  to  boot  /"  Let  modern  socialists  take  a  few  les- 
sons from  these  originals. 

Their  materials  for  agricultural  labor  were  at  one 
time  quite  novel :  when  a  field  was  to  be  harrowed  the 
harrow  was  made  fast  to  the  pony's  tail  ;  a  rope  was 
fastened  to  the  horse's  tail,  and  then  to  the  harrow ; 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


87 


but  if  the  hair  of  the  tail  was  long  it  was  fastened  by  a 
peg  into  a  hole  in  the  harrow  ;  thus  equipped,  a  man 
mounted  his  back,  and  drove  him  over  the  field.  Who- 
ever lacks  invention  let  him  learn  from  Paddy.  The 
following  true  description  of  that  district  is  given  by 
Patrick  M'Kye,  the  teacher  of  the  National  School,  in 
183T,  in  a  memorial  sent  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant ;  nor 
was  Patrick's  memorial  in  vain,  for  it  not  only  awaken- 
ed an  Englishman  to  send  these  naked  ones  clothing, 
but  it  will  be  handed  down  to  future  generations,  as  a 
memento  of  both  the  suffering  state  of  that  people,  and 
the  faithfulness  of  the  writer  ;  and,  above  all,  it  will 
show  in  very  lively  colors  what  persevering  enlightened 
philanthropy  can  do,  when  in  the  heart  of  such  a  land- 
lord as  Lord  George  Hill. 

Here  follows  the  document ;  and  if  every  school- 
master in  Ireland  had  so  turned  his  parish  inside  out, 
many  more  Lords,  like  George  Hill,  might  have  long 
since  arisen  to  their  help  : — 

"  To  His  Excellency  the  Lord- Lieutenant  of  Ireland, 

"  THE   MEMORIAL   OF  PATRICK  m'kYE 

"  Most  Humbly  Showeth, 

"  That  the  parishioners  of  the  parish  of  West  Tul- 
laghobegly,  in  the  Barony  of  Kilmacrennan,  in  the 
County  of  Donegal,  are  in  the  most  needy,  hungry,  and 
naked  condition  of  any  people  that  ever  came  within  the 
precincts  of  my  knowledge,  although  I  have  traveled  a 


88 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


part  of  nine  countios  in  Ireland,  also  a  part  of  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  together  with  a  part  of  British 
America  ;  I  have  likewise  perambulated  2253  miles 
through  seven  of  the  United  States,  and  never 
witnessed  the  tenth  part  of  such  hunger,  hardships  and 
nakedness. 

"  Now,  my  Lord,  if  the  causes  which  I  now  lay  be- 
fore your  Excellency,  were  not  of  very  extraordinary 
importance,  I  would  never  presume  to  lay  them  before 
you. 

"  But  I  consider  myself  in  duty  bound  by  charity  to 
relieve  distressed  and  hungry  fellow -man,  although 
I  am  sorry  to  state  that  my  charity  cannot  extend 
farther  than  to  explain  to  the  rich  where  hunger  and 
hardships  exist,  in  almost  the  greatest  degree  that  nature 
can  endure. 

u  This  I  shall  endeavor  to  explain  in  detail,  with  all 
the  truth  and  accuracy  in  my  power,  and  without  the 
least  exaggeration,  as  follows  : — 

"  There  are  about  4000*  persons  in  this  parish,  and 

*  This  is  an  error;  the  population  of  Tullaghobegly  being  9049  in 
the  year  1811.  Paddy  MKye,  however,  when  he  wrote  in  the  year 
1837,  had  no  means  of  ascertaining  this,  as  he  had  all  the  other  par- 
ticulars in  his  statement. 

This  error  of  the  faithful  Paddy  is  certainly  a  very  modest  one,  and 
serves  rather  to  brighten  than  eclipse  the  picture.  It  looks  as  though 
the  mind  of  the  writer  was  not  so  perverted,  nor  so  lacking  in  ma- 
terial, as  to  be  driven  to  exaggeration  to  make  out  a  vivid,  exciting 
story. 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


89 


all  Catholics,  and  as  poor  as  I  shall  describe,  having 


among  them  no  more  than- 

"  One  cart, 
No  wheel  car, 

No  coach,  or  any  other  vehicle, 

One  plow, 

Sixteen  harrows, 

Eight  saddles, 

Two  pillions, 

Eleven  bridles, 

Twenty  shovels, 

Thirty-two  rakes, 

Seven  table-forks, 

Ninety-three  chairs, 


One  priest, 

No  other  resident  gentleman, 

No  bonnet. 

No  clock, 

Three  watches, 

Eight  brass  candlesticks, 

No  looking  glasses  above  3d.  in 

price, 
No  boots,  no  spurs, 
No  fruit  trees, 
No  turnips, 
No  parsnips, 


Two  hundred   and  forty-three  No  carrots, 


stools, 
Ten  iron  grapes, 
No  swine,  hogs,  or  pigs, 
Twenty-seven  geese, 
Three  turkeys, 
Two  feather  beds, 
Eight  chaff  beds, 
Two  stables,  | 
Six  cow-houses, 
One  national  school, 
No  other  school, 


No  clover. 

Or  any  other  garden  vegetables, 
but  potatoes  and  cabbage,  and 
not  more  than  ten  square  feet 
of  glass  in  windows  in  the 
whole,  with  the  exception  of 
the  chapel,  the  school-house, 
the  priest's  house,  Mr.  Dom- 
brams  house,  and  the  consta- 
bulary barrack. 


"  None  of  their  either  married  or  unmarried  women 
can  afford  more  than  one  shift,  and  the  fewest  number 
can  afford  any,  and  more  than  one  half  of  both  men 
and  women  cannot  afford  shoes  to  their  feet,  nor  can 
many  of  them  afford  a  second  bed,  but  whole  families  of 
sons  and  daughters  of  mature  age  indiscriminately  lying 
together  with  their  parents,  and  all  in  the  bare  buff. 

M  They  have  no  means  of  harrowing  their  land,  but 
with  meadow  rakes.    Their  farms  are  so  small  that 


90 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


from  four  to  ten  farms  can  be  harrowed  in  a  day  with 
one  rake. 

"  Their  beds  are  straw — green  and  dried  rushes  or 
mountain  bent :  their  bed-clothes  are  either  coarse 
sheets,  or  no  sheets,  and  ragged  filthy  blankets. 

"  And  worse  than  all  that  I  have  mentioned,  there  is 
a  general  prospect  of  starvation,  at  the  present  prevail- 
ing among  them,  and  that  originating  from  various 
causes,  but  the  principal  cause  is  the  rot  or  failure  of 
seed  in  the  last  year's  crop,  together  with  a  scarcity  of 
winter  forage,  in  consequence  of  a  long  continuation  of 
storm  since  October  last,  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

"  So  that  they,  the  people,  were  under  the  necessity 
of  cutting  down  their  potatoes  and  giving  them  to  their 
cattle  to  keep  them  alive.  All  these  circumstances  con- 
nected together,  have  brought  hunger  to  reign  among 
them  to  that  degree,  that  the  generality  of  the  peasantry 
are  on  the  small  allowance  of  one  meal  a  day,  and  many 
families  cannot  afford  more  than  one  meal  in  two  days, 
and  sometimes  one  meal  in  three  days.  Their  children 
are  crying  and  fainting  with  hunger,  and  their  parents 
weeping,  being  full  of  grief,  hunger,  debility  and  dejec- 
tion, with  glooming  aspect,  looking  at  their  children 
likely  to  expire  in  the  jaws  of  starvation. 

u  Also,  in  addition  to  all,  their  cattle  and  sheep  are 
dying  with  hunger,  and  their  owners  forced  by  hunger 
to  eat  the  flesh  of  such.  ?Tis  reasonable  to  suppose 
that  the  use  of  such  flesh  will  raise  some  infectious  dis- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


91 


ease  among  the  people,  and  it  may  very  reasonably  be 
supposed,  that  the  people  will  die  even  faster  than  the 
cattle  and  sheep,  if  some  immediate  relief  be  not  sent 
to  alleviate  their  hunger. 

"  Now,  my  Lord,  it  may  perhaps  seem  inconsistent 
with  truth  that  all  I  have  said  could  possibly  be  true, 
but  to  convince  your  noble  Excellency  of  the  truth  of 
all  that  I  have  said,  I  will  venture  to  challenge  the 
world  to  produce  one  single  person  to  contradict  any 
part  of  my  statement. 

"  I  must  acknowledge,  that  if  reference  were  made 
.to  any  of  the  landlords  or  landholders  of  the  parish, 
they  would  contradict  it,  as  it  is  evident  it  would  blast 
their  honors  if  it  were  known  abroad  that  such  a  degree 
of  want  existed  in  their  estates  among  their  tenantry. 
But  here  is  how  I  make  my  reference  and  support  the 
truth  of  all  that  I  have  said ;  that  is,  if  any  unpre- 
judiced gentleman  should  be  sent  here  to  investigate 
strictly  into  the  truth  of  it,  I  will,  if  called  on,  go  with 
him  from  house  to  house,  where  his  eyes  will  fully 
satisfy  and  convince  him,  and  where  I  can  show  him 
about  one  hundred  and  forty  children  bare  naked,  and 
who  were  so  during  winter,  and  some  hundreds  only 
covered  with  filthy  rags,  most  disgustful  to  look  at. 
Also,  man  and  beast  housed  together,  i.e.,  the  families 
in  one  end  of  the  house,  and  the  cattle  in  the  other  end 
of  the  kitchen. 

"  Some  houses  have  within  their  walls,  from  one  cwt. 


92 


ANNALS  OF  THE  FAMINE. 


to  thirty  cwts.  of  dung,  others  having  from  ten  to 
fifteen  tons  weight  of  dung,  and  only  cleaned  out  once 
a  year ! 

"  I  have  also  to  add  that  the  National  School  has 
greatly  decreased  in  number  of  scholars,  through  hunger 
and  extreme  poverty  ;  and  the  teacher  of  said  school, 
with  a  family  of  nine  persons,  depending  on  a  salary  of 
<£8  a  year,  without  any  benefit  from  any  other  source. 
If  I  may  hyperbolically  speak,  it  is  an  honor  for  the 
Board  of  Education  ! 

"  One  remark  before  I  conclude.  I  refer  your  noble 
Excellency  for  the  authenticity  of  the  above  statement 

to  the  Rev.  H.  O'F  — ,  Parish  Priest,  and  to  Mr. 

R  ,  Chief  Constable,  stationed  at  Gweedore,  in 

said  parish,  and  Mr.  P  ,  Chief  Officer  of  Coast 

Guard,  in  same  district. 

"  Your  most  humble  and  obedient  Servant, 

"  Patrick  M'Kye," 


CHAPTER  IV. 


u  I  stand  alone,  without  fear,  in  the  midst  of  thousands,  though 
the  valiant  be  distant  far." — Ossian. 

Now,  reader,  summon  your  forces,  collect  your 
strength,  and  see  if  you  are  prepared  to  meet  such  a 
formidable  host  and  go  forth  to  battle.  There  was  one 
in  the  face  and  eyes  of  all  the  foregoing  graphic  facts, 
stood  up  single-handed  ;  and,  like  the  shepherd  son  of 
Jesse,  went  forth  and  boldly  challenged  this  gigantic 
Goliah.  Yes !  Lord  George  Hill  is  not  a  George 
Washington,  his  work  was  a  mightier  one — his  was  a 
grapple  with  mind,  with  untutored  mind,  gathering 
strength  for  ages,  till  it  seemed  to  defy  all  attempts  of 
reform  ;  and,  like  the  bold  clhTs  which  hung  over  their 
wild  coast,  stood  up  in  their  pride  and  said,  "  Bash  on, 
we  heed  you  not."  Washington  had  carnal  battles  to 
fight,  and  with  carnal  weapons,  in  the  hands  of  gallant 
soldiers,  he  scattered  the  foe.  But  mark  !  He  that  by 
moral  power  grapples  with  the  worst  passions  of  men, 
and  lays  them  harmless  at  his  feet,  has  done  more  than 
he  who  has  conquered  whole  armies  by  the  sword.  This, 
Lord  George  Hill  has  done.  In  1838  this  indefatigable 
man  purchased  small  holdings,  adding  to  them,  till  the 
whole  amounted  to  upward  of  23,000  acres.  3,000 
people  then  inhabited  the  land,  and  but  TOO  paid  rent. 


04 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


What  did  he  do  ?  Did  lie  take  a  body  of  policemen, 
and  arm  himself  with  a  pike  and  pistol,  and  go  forth, 
demanding  submission  or  death  ?  Ho  had  an  efficient 
agent ;  and  "  temporary  apartments  were  fitted  up  on 
the  spot."  He  then  went  himself  into  every  hut  on 
his  estate :  and,  understanding  Irish,  he  soon  gained 
access  to  their  hearts  :  they  said,  "  he  could  not  be  a 
lord  because  he  spoke  Irish." 

His  first  work  was  to  check  the  illicit  distillation  of 
their  grain  ;  and  he  built  a  corn  store,  87  feet  long  and 
22  wide,  with  three  lofts,  and  a  kiln ;  then  a  quay  was 
.  formed  in  front  of  the  store,  admitting  vessels  of  200 
tons,  having  14  feet  of  water  at  the  height  of  the  tide. 
A  market  was  established,  where  the  same  price  was 
paid  for  grain  as  at  Lettcrkenny,  2G  miles  distant. 
The  difficulties  of  building  this  store  were  great  indeed 
— no  masons  or  carpenters  in  the  vicinity — and  the  site 
must  be  excavated  by  blasting  a  solid  rock.  But  what 
will  not,  and  what  did  not  perseverance  do  1  It  was 
done,  and  next  a  wheelwright  was  employed ;  timber 
and  iron  brought  from  Derry ;  until  the  calls  multipli- 
ed, the  store  was  stocked  with  the  common  necessaries 
of  life,  and  at  last  it  was  increased  double  in  size.  The 
inhabitants,  for  the  first  time,  began  to  eat  bread ;  and, 
can  you  believe  it  %  savage  as  they  were,  they  loved  it. 
The  next  difficult  work  was  to  place  each  tenant  on  his 
own  farm  ;  and  to  do  this  every  landholder  was  served 
with  notice  "  to  quit."  A  surveyor  had  drawn  maps, 
the  tenants  were  assembled,  and,  the  new  allotments 
made  according  to  his  rent,  all  previous  bargains  Were 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


95 


adjusted  to  mutual  satisfaction.  But  the  final  allot- 
ments of  land  took  three  years  to  settle  :  they  must 
look  over  their  new  farms,  all  in  one  piece,  and  cast 
lots  for  them.  The  Rundale  system,  when  disturbed, 
brought  new  difficulties  to  these  people  ;  it  broke  up 
their  clusters  of  huts,  and  the  facilities  of  assembling 
nights,  to  tell  and  hear  long  stories ;  and  they  must 
tumble*  down  their  cabins,  which  were  of  loose  stones  ; 
and  the  owner  of  the  cabin  hired  a  fiddler,  which  no 
sooner  known,  than  the  joyous  Irish  are  on  the  spot  : 
each  takes  a  stone  or  stones  upon  his  or  her  back,  (for 
women  and  children  are  there,) — they  dance  at  intervals 
— the  fiddler  animates  them  on  while  the  day  light  lasts, 
and  then  the  night  is  finished  by  dancing.  When  the 
houses  were  set  up  anew  upon  the  farms,  Lord  George 
thought  it  advisable  to  have  a  few  ten  acre  farms, 
fenced  in  on  the  waste  land.  This  was  instantly  op- 
posed, for  they  did  not  want  these  divisions  occupied,  as 
by  so  doing  it  would  thin  out  the  crowds  and  break  up 
the  clanship  too  much.  They  would  not  be  hired  to 
make  the  ditches ;  and  a  "  fearless  wanderer"  could 
only  do  the  work  ;  though  sods  of  turf  were  hurled  at 
him  he  kept  on,  but  the  contest  was  so  sharp  that  it 
was  settled  at  last  by  two  policemen,  at  night,  who 
frightened  away  the  assailants,  who  had  assembled  to 
fc<  settle"  the  ditch.  Peace  was  concluded,  ditches  were 
made,  premiums  were  offered  for  the  best  specimens  of 
clean  cottages,  which  now  had  chimneys  and  windows, 
whitewashed  walls,  suitable  beds  and  bedsteads,  crock- 
ery and  chairs,  and  the  manure  heap  at  a  respectable 


9G 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


distance,  and  all  bearing  the  appearance  of  comfort. 
These  premiums  extended  to  growing  green  crops, 
draining  farms,  good  calves,  pigs,  colts,  &c,  and  for 
webs  of  cloth,  best  knit  stockings,  firkins  of  butter,  &c, 
&c.  The  premium  day  was  the  wonder  of  wonders ; 
for  they  were  told  that  the  noble -hearted  Lord  George 
was  to  dine  with  them,  which  the  poor  people  could  not 
believe,  and  were  afraid  to  go  in,  till  the  surveyor  as- 
sured them  that  it  was  true.  This  was  the  crowning 
of  the  whole,  and  puts  forever  at  resf  any  doubts  of  the 
good  sense  of  this  well-balanced  mind,  which  knew  how 
to  lay  the  foundation,  set  up  the  walls,  and  put  on  his 
seal  to  the  topmost  stone.  Our  Savior  explained  this 
principle  emphatically,  when  rebuked  for  eating  with 
publicans  and  sinners  :  "  I  came  not  to  call  the  righte- 
ous," &c.  Lord  George  Hill  knew  well  the  secret 
avenue  to  the  hearts  of  these  people  ;  he  knew  they 
were  men,  and  though  circumstances  had  made  them 
degraded  ones,  yet  if  the  smothered  embers  of  that 
Image  in  which  they  were  created  could  be  stirred,  liv- 
ing sparks  would  be  emitted.  Did  this  "  familiarity 
breed  contempt  V  Did  they  take  undue  advantage,  and 
say,  "  We  will  not  have  this  man  to  rule  over  us 
and  was  God  offended  ?  Come  and  see  the  fruits  of  his 
decision  and  condescension — they  both  stand  out  in  as 
bold  relief  as  the  old  mountain  Arrigle  which  nods  its 
cloud-capped  head  over  this  district. 

But  details  must  be  left :  Facts  from  Gweedore, 
should  be  in  the  hand  and  heart  of  every  landlord  who 
may  have  anything  to  do  in  difficulties  like  these-.  Let 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


97 


him  visit  these  comfortable  cottages,  supplied  with  de- 
cencies, to  cause  the  inmates  to  feel  that  they  are  hu- 
man ;  let  him  see  the  industry  of  the  women  and  the 
becoming  clothing  of  the  peasantry  ;  let  him  visit  the 
store,  the  mill,  the  union-house,  school-house,  and  dis- 
pensary ;  and  while  he  is  doing  all  this,  let  his  home  be 
for  a  few  days  in  that  well-ordered  hotel,  and  notice  the 
consistency  of  the  whole  ;  and  if  he  can,  let  him  go  and 
do  likewise.  If  he  cannot,  let  him  retrace  all  his  steps, 
and  impartially  decide  how  far  his  own  negligence,  im- 
providence, love  of  ease,  and  indifference  to  the  real 
good  of  his  tenantry,  may  have  contributed  to  bring  him 
into  this  state.  If  he  have  not  capital,  like  Lord 
George  Hill,  where  is  his  capital  1  Have  horses,  coach- 
es, hunting  dogs,  and  hunting  dinners  frittered  it  away? 
Then  woe  betide  him,  his  day  is  over,  who  can  help 
him  ]  The  school-house  at  Bunbeg,  near  this  store,  is 
not  a  small  item  in  this  great  work.  The  room  is  25 
feet  by  15,  lofty  and  well-ventilated.  The  teacher  has 
a  dwelling  under  the  same  roof ;  and  when  I  visited  it 
all  was  order  and  comfort.  The  girls  are  taught  sew- 
ing, for  of  this  the  people  are  quite  ignorant,  and  it  may 
safely  be  presumed  that  Lord  George  would  not  re- 
strict their  advance  in  education  to  certain  bounds,  lest 
their  talents  should  transcend  their  station  in  life.  I 
spent  a  Sabbath  in  that  quiet  hotel,  and  attended  the 
Church  service,  which  was  then  conducted  in  the  school- 
room ;  a  house  of  worship  was  in  progress,  but  not  ready 
to  be  opened.  The  female  tenantry  who  were  at  home, 
walking  upon  the  street,  or  calling  into  the  hotel,  al- 
5 


98 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


ways  had  their  knitting-work  in  motion  whenever  I  saw 
them,  and  such  a  surplus  of  stockings  as  amounted  to 
about  £200,  was  then  on  hand,  all  of  which  the  females 
had  been  paid  for  knitting.  "  They  shall  not  be  idle," 
said  his  lordship,  "  though  the  work  is  on  my  hands  un- 
sold." His  family  residence  is  located  about  twenty 
miles  from  Gwcedorc,  but  he  and  his  wife  were  at  the 
hotel  the  evening  that  I  reached  it,  and  meeting  him  in 
the  morning  in  the  hall — supposing  him  to  be  some  re- 
spectable appendage  to  the  house — made  inquiries  con- 
cerning it ;  and  not  till  he  made  some  remarks  respect- 
ing my  self-denying  travels  in  Ireland,  did  I  find  my 
mistake.  I  saw  at  once  the  secret  of  his  mighty  achieve- 
ments ;  his  simplicity  was  his  dignity  and  strength. 
He  had  struggled  hard  during  the  famine  to  keep  his 
tenantry  from  suffering,  without  much  foreign  aid,  had 
sacrificed  much,  and  difficulties  were  increasing.  The 
next  winter  the  hotel  was  closed  for  a  time  ;  sickness 
had  made  inroads  into  the  house,  and  death  likewise  ; 
but  it  was  re-opened  the  next  season,  under  more  en- 
couraging auspices. 

This  man  has  proved  to  a  demonstration  what  can  be 
done  even  with  the  most  hopeless,  and  under  the  most 
discouraging  circumstances  ;  for  if  Lord  George  Hill 
could  transform  those  wild  mountain  goats,  even  to  com- 
mon civilized  bullocks,  Avhat  could  not  be  done  with  any 
and  all  of  the  wild  game  of  Ireland  ?  Pity,  great  pity, 
that  so  few  have  applied  the  right  key  to  the  Irish 
heart !  Still  greater  pity  that  so  few  believe  there  is  a 
key  that  can  find  a  right  entrance  ;  give  Lord  George 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


99 


Hill  a  patent  right,  and  let  all  who  will  improve  it,  and 
Ireland  will  arise. 

Now,  in  1850,  he  writes,  u  Say  that  no  person  died 
of  famine  at  Gweedore,  though  many  of  the  aged  and 
infants,  from  being  scantily  fed,  died  earlier  than  other- 
wise they  would,  as  well  as  from  change  of  diet  j  also 
that  the  people  are  reviving  in  a  great  degree,  from  the 
potatoe  having  held  out  this  year." 

Lord  George  Hill  is  an  Irishman  of  the  Hillsborough 
family,  in  the  county  Down,  brother,  to  the  late  and 
uncle  to  the  present  Marquis  of  Downshire,  a  true  Irish- 
man^ who  lives  and  acts  for  his  country. 

Two  miles  from  Gweedore  an  English  gentleman  had 
fixed  a  residence  on  the  woody  side  of  a  hill,  with  a  fine 
lake  at  a  little  distance,  who  was  attracted  there  by  the 
beauty  of  the  scenery,  and  a  desire  to  enjoy  the  evening 
of  his  days  in  a  romantic  peaceful  retirement  among  a 
peasantry  which  pleased  him  ;  and  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters were  quite  an  acquisition  to  the  scattered  intelli- 
gent class,  which  dotted  the  wild  scenery  there.  His 
family  were  then  in  England,  and  when  I  met  him  a 
few  weeks  after  in  Deny,  he  said,  "  I  waited  all  day  to 
see  you,  but  when  you  come  again  we  shall  not  be  dis- 
appointed." He  died  a  few  weeks  after,  and  left  a  sad 
breach  in  the  hearts  of  many. 

This  little  incident  is  named  to  show  how  much  the 
English,  who  go  to  Ireland  because  they  admire  the 
country,  and  justly  appreciate  the  people,  are  beloved. 
They  are  always  mentioned  with  the  greatest  admira- 


100 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


tion  where  tlicy  have  behaved  with  a  proper  condescen- 
sion and  kindness  to  the  people. 

My  next  excursion  was  from  Gweedore  to  Dungloe, 
with  Mr.  Foster,  who  conducted  me  to  his  pretty  cot- 
tage and  lovely  family,  in  the  parish  of  Templecrone. 
It  was  a  wild  and  dreary  waste  which  led  us  to  it — here 
and  there  a  cluster  of  miserable  cabins,  and  still  more 
miserable  inmates,  met  the  eye  ;  now  and  then  a  hungry 
being  would  crawl  out  and  make  some  sorrowful  com- 
plaint of  neglect  by  the  relieving  officer,  which  could 
not  be  remedied ;  but  when  we  reached  the  cottage  of 
my  guide,  all  bespoke  plenty  and  comfort.  Here,  in 
the  midst  of  desolation  and  death,  this  isolated  bright 
spot  said,  "  Mercy  is  not  clean  gone  forever."  Here 
was  the  minister  of  Templecrone,  who  had  come  to 
dine,  for  he  heard  that  a  stranger  who  pitied  Ireland 
was  to  be  there,  and  his  heart  was  made  of  tenderness 
and  love.  Seldom  can  be  met  a  being  where  such  ami- 
able, tender,  and  sympathetic  kindness,  are  united  with 
energy  and  perseverance,  as  were  in  this  man.  He  was 
alive  to  every  tale  of  woe,  and  active  to  surmount  all 
difficulties  ;  with  his  own  hands,  he  labored  to  assist  the 
poor — they  have  laid  their  dead  around  his  gate  in  the 
night,  knowing  that  the  "  blessed  minister  would  not 
let  them  be  buried  without  a  board  on  ?em."  "We 
spent  a  painful-pleasant  evening  at  this  hospitable 
house,  talking  of  the  dreadful  scenes  of  death  in  their 
midst,  and  then  the  kind  man  rode  eight  miles  on  horse- 
back to  his  home.  The  next  day  we  were  to  visit  Ar- 
ranmore,  a  pretty  sunny  island,  where  peace  and  com- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  101 

fort  had  ever  reigned.  The  peasantry  here  were  about 
1500  in  number,  occupying  a  green  spot  three  miles  in 
length,  and  had  always  maintained  a  good  character  for 
morality  and  industry.  They  kept  cows,  which  sup- 
plied them  with  milk,  sheep  with  wool,  geese  with  beds, 
fowls  with  eggs  ;  and  grew  oats,  potatoes,  and  barley  ; 
they  wore  shoes  and  stockings,  which  none  of  the  female 
peasantry  can  do  in  the  country  places ;  they  likewise 
spun  and  made  their  own  wearing  apparel,  and  as  the 
difficulty  of  crossing  the  channel  of  the  sea,  which  was 
three  miles,  was  considerable,  they  seldom  visited  the 
main  land.  When  they  saw  the  potatoe  was  gone,  they 
ate  their  fowls,  sheep,  and  cows,  and  then  began  to 
cross  the  sea  to  Templecrone  for  relief.  What  could 
they  find  there  1  One  man  could  do  but  little  to  stay 
the  desolation.  Hundreds  had  died  before  this,  and 
though  I  knew  that  painful  scenes  were  in  waiting,  yet, 
if  possible,  the  half  was  not  told  me.  Six  men,  beside 
Mr.  Griffith,  crossed  with  me  in  an  open  boat,  and  we 
landed,  not  buoyantly,  upon  the  once  pretty  island. 
The  first  that  called  my  attention  was  the  death-like 
stillness — nothing  of  life  was  seen  or  heard,  excepting 
occasionally  a  dog.  These  looked  so  unlike  all  others 
I  had  seen  among  the  poor  I  unwittingly  said — "  How 
can  the  dogs  look  so  fat  and  shining  here,  where  there 
is  no  food  for  the  people?"  "  Shall  I  tell  her  V  said 
the  pilot  to  Mr.  Griffith,  not  supposing  that  I  heard 
him. 

This  was  enough  :  if  anything  were  wanting  to  make 
the  horrors  of  a  famine  complete,  this  supplied  the 


102 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


deficiency.  Reader,  I  leave  you  to  your  thoughts,  and 
only  add  that  the  sleek  dogs  of  Arranmore  were  my 
horror,  if  not  my  hatred,  and  have  stamped  on  my  mind 
images  which  can  never  be  effaced. 

We  made  our  first  call  at  the  door  of  the  chapel ;  the 
fat  surly-looking  priest  was  standing  there  ;  and,  saying 
to  him,  "  Your  people,  sir,  are  in  a  bad  state."  "  Bad 
enough,  they  give  me  nothing."  "  Why  should  they  ? — 
you  cannot  expect  or  ask  anything  of  the  poor  starving 
creatures."  The  curate  withdrew,  leaving  the  battle  to 
be  decided  by  the  priest,  pilot,  and  myself,  for  he  had 
known  him  before.  "  Ah,"  said  the  pilot,  softly,  "  he's 
a  hard  one ;  there's  the  Christian  for  you,"  pointing  to 
the  curate,  "he's  the  man  that  has  the  pitiful  heart, — 
not  a  cratur  on  the  island  but  would  lay  down  the  life 
for  him."  This  pilot  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  but  that 
characteristic  impartiality,  peculiar  to  the  Irish,  where 
justice  and  mercy  are  concerned,  belonged  to  him  like- 
wise. We  went  from  cabin  to  cabin,  till  I  begged  the 
curate  to  show  me  no  more.  Not  in  a  solitary  instance 
did  one  beg.  When  we  entered  their  dark,  smoky,  floor- 
less  abodes,  made  darker  by  the  glaring  of  a  bright  sun, 
which  had  been  shining  upon  us,  they  stood  up  before 
us  in  a  speechless,  vacant,  staring,  stupid,  yet  most 
eloquent  posture,  mutely  graphically  saying,  "  Here  we 
are,  your  bone  and  your  flesh,  made  in  God's  image,  like 
you.  Look  at  us  /  What  brought  us  here  ?"  May  God 
forgive  me,  and  I  believe  he  will,  or  T  would  not  say  it. 
With  Job,  I  said,  "  Let  darkness  and  the  shadow  of 
death  stain  that  day  when  first  the  potato  was  planted 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


103 


in  this  green  isle  of  the  sea,  to  oppress  the  poor  laborer, 
and  at  last  bring  him  to  a  valley  of  death — deep,  dark, 
intricate — where  slimy  serpents,  poison  lizards,  and 
gnawing  vultures  creep  and  wind  about  his  wasted  limbs, 
and  gnaw  into  the  deepest  recesses  of  his  vitals. 

In  every  cabin  we  visited,  some  were  so  weak  that 
they  could  neither  stand  nor  sit,  and  when  we  entered 
they  saluted  us,  by  crawling  on  all  fours  toward  us,  and 
trying  to  give  some  token  of  welcome.  Never,  never 
was  the  ruling  passion  stronger  in  death.  That  heart- 
felt greeting  which  they  give  the  stranger,  had  not  in 
the  least  died  within  them  ;  it  was  not  asking  charity, 
for  the  curate  answered  my  inquiries  afterward,  con- 
cerning the  self-control,  which  was  the  wonder  of  all, 
that  he  had  sent  a  man  previously  through  the  island, 
to  say  that  a  stranger,  from  across  the  sea,  was  coming 
to  visit  them,  but  she  had  no  money  or  food  to  give,  and 
they  must  not  trouble  her.  I  gave  a  little  boy  a  biscuit, 
and  a  thousand  times  since  have  I  wished  that  it  had 
been  thrown  into  the  sea  ;  it  could  not  save  him  :  he  took 
it  between  his  bony  hands,  clasped  it  tight,  and  half-bent 
as  he  was,  lifted  them  up,  looked  with  his  glaring  eyes 
upon  me,  and  gave  a  laughing  grin  that  was  truly  hor- 
rible. The  curate  turned  aside,  and  beckoned  me  away. 
"Did  you  see  that  horrid  attempt  to  laugh?"  "I 
cannot  stay  longer,"  was  my  answer.  We  hurried  away. 
The  noble-minded  pilot  said,  "  Will  you  step  into  my 
little  place,  and  I  will  show  you  the  boiler  where  I  made 
the  soup  and  stirabout,  while  the  grants  lasted."  These 
grants  were  mostly  sent  by  the  churches  in  England, 


104  ANNALS  OF  THE 

and  some  poor  deserving  persons  selected  to  give  them 
out,  and  a  very  small  compensation  granted  them,  from 
the  food  they  were  distributing  ;  and  it  should  be  here 
remarked,  that  when  mention  is  made  of  the  difference 
between  "  hirelings  "  and  "volunteers,"  I  mean  those 
u  hirelings  "  who  were  paid  by  government  great  sala- 
ries, and  like  the  slave-overseers,  could  order  this  flog- 
ging, and  withhold  that,  according  to  their  own  caprices. 
This  does  not  in  the  least  apply  to  such  distributors  as 
these. 

The  house  of  this  man  was  a  step  in  advance  of  the 
common  cabins,  and  every  part  as  clean  as  cabin  or  cot- 
tage could  be ;  his  young  despairing  wife  sat,  with  a 
clean  cap  and  apron  on,  for  she  knew  we  were  coming, 
and  uncomplainingly  answered  our  inquiries  respecting 
food,  that  they  had  not  eaten  that  day,  and  the  husband 
led  us  into  the  next  room,  opened  a  chest,  took  out  a  small 
bowl,  partly  filled  with  some  kind  of  meal,  and  solemnly 
declared  that  the}r  had  not  another  morsel  in  the  cabin 
or  out,  nor  a  sixpence  to  buy  any.  The  curate  said, 
"  I  know  him  well,  he  is  a  deserving  man,  and  tells  us 
the  truth." 

When  we  left  this  cabin  we  passed  a  contiguous  one, 
and  a  decently  clad  woman,  with  shoes  and  stockings, 
and  blue  petticoat,  (that  was  the  kind  the  peasants  al- 
ways wore  in  their  days  of  comfort,)  very  pleasantly  of- 
fered me  bowl  of  milk.  Astonished  at  the  sight  of 
such  a  luxury,  I  refused,  from  the  principle  that  it 
would  be  robbing  the  starving.  "  I  regret,"  said  the 
curate,  as  we  turned  away,  "  that  you  did  not  take -it, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


105 


her  feelings  were  deeply  injured :  a  shadow  of  disap- 
pointment," he  said,  "  came  over  her  face,  as  she  an- 
swered in  Irish  :  6  The  stranger  looks  wairy  and  her 
heart  is  drooping  for  the  nourishment.'  "  0,  my 
Heavenly  Father  !  my  u  heart  drooping  for  nourish- 
ment "  after  having  taken  a  wholesome  breakfast,  and 
with  the  prospect  of  a  good  dinner  at  our  return.  A 
second  kind  woman  was  about  making  the  same  offer- 
ing, when  I  begged  Mr.  Griffith,  who  spoke  Irish,  to 
say  how  much  I  thanked  her  ;  but  that  I  never  drank 
milk,  and  was  not  in  the  least  hungry.  Inquiring  how 
we  came  to  find  milk,  the  pilot  answered,  that  scattered 
here  and  there,  a  comfortable  farmer,  who  had  milked 
some  three  or  four  cows,  had  saved  one  from  the  wreck ; 
but  that  would  soon  go,  and  then  all  must  die  together. 
We  hurried  away.  And  now  for  the  burying-ground. 
"  You  have  seen  the  living,  and  must  now  see  the  place 
of  the  dead." 

A  famine  burying-ground  on  the  sea-coast  has  some 
peculiarities  belonging  to  itself.  First,  it  often  lies  on 
the  borders  of  the  sea,  without  any  wall,  and  the  dead 
are  put  into  the  earth  without  a  coffin,  so  many  piles  on 
piles  that  the  top  one  often  can  be  seen  through  the 
thin  covering;  loose  stones  are  placed  over,  but  the 
dogs  can  easily  put  these  aside,  and  tear  away  the  loose 
dirt.  This  burial-place  was  on  a  cliff,  <vhose  sides  were 
covered  with  rough  stones,  and  the  ascent  in  some  parts 
very  difficult.  We  ascended,  sometimes  keeping  erect, 
and  sometimes  being  obliged  to  stoop  and  use  our  hands. 
When  we  reached  the  top,  the  painful  novelty  repaid  all 
5 


106 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


our  labor.  It  Was  an  uneven  surface  of  a  few  perches, 
with  new-made  graves  and  loose  stones  covering  them. 
A  straw-rope  was  lying  near  a  fresh-dug  grave,  which 
the  pilot  said  belonged  to  an  old  man,  who  two  days 
before  he  saw  climbing  the  cliff,  with  a  son  of  fifteen 
lashed  to  his  back  by  that  cord,  bringing  in  his  feeble 
hand  a  spade.  "  I  untied  the  cord,  took  the  corpse 
from  the  father's  back,  and  with  the  spade,  as  well  as  I 
could,  made  a  grave  and  put  in  the  boy ;"  adding, 
"  Here  you  see  so  many  have  been  buried,  that  I  could 
not  cover  him  well." 

This  was  the  burial-place  of  Arranmore,  and  here, 
at  the  foot,  was  the  old  roaring  ocean,  dashing  its  proud 
waves,  embracing  in  its  broad  arms  this  trembling  green 
gem,  while  the  spray  was  continually  sprinkling  its  salt 
tears  upon  its  once  fair  cheek,  as  if  weeping  over  a  de- 
solation that  it  could  not  repair.  At  a  little  distance 
was  a  smooth  green  field,  rearing  its  pretty  crop  of 
young  barley,  whose  heads  were  full  and  fast  ripening 
for  the  sickle.  "  This,"  said  Mr.  Griffith,  "  is  the 
growth  of  seed  which  was  presented  by  William  Bennet, 
last  March ;  the  poor  creatures  have  sowed  it,  and  if 
the  hands  that  planted  it  live  to  reap  the  crop,  they 
will  have  a  little  bread.  Take  a  few  heads  of  it,  and 
send  them  to  him  as  a  specimen  of  its  fine  growth,  and 
of  their  care  in  cultivating  it.  Had  these  industri- 
ous people,"  he  added,  f*  been  supplied  in  the  spring 
with  seed  of  barley  and  turnips,  they  would  not  need 
charity  from  the  public.  The  government  sent  a  sup- 
ply around  the  coast,  the  delighted  people  looked  up 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


107 


with  hope,  when,  to  their  sad  disappointment,  this  ex- 
pected gift  was  offered  at  a  price  considerably  higher 
than  the  market  one,  and  we  saw  the  ships  sailing 
away,  without  leaving  its  contents  ;  for  not  one  was 
able  to  purchase  a  pound.  And  we  have  since  been 
told,  that  the  6  lazy  dogs  '  were  offered  seed,  but  refus- 
ed, not  willing  to  take  the  trouble  to  sow  it." 

We  left  without  doing  one  favor,  and  without  being 
asked  to  do  one,  except  to  drink  a  basin  of  milk.  We 
found  two  little  meagre,  almost  naked  girls,  sitting  upon 
the  beach  picking  shells  and  grinding  them  in  their 
clean  teeth  ;  they  gave  a  vacant  look  as  we  spoke,  but 
answered  not. 

I  gave  the  six  boatmen  a  shilling  each,  who  had  not 
eaten  one  mouthful  that  day,  and  Mr.  G.  added  six- 
pence each.  Their  grateful  acknowledgments  were 
doubly  affecting,  when  they  said,  u  This  is  more  than 
we  have  had  at  one  time  since  the  famine,"  and  they 
hastened  to  the  meal-shop  to  purchase  a  little  for  their 
starving  families.  We  went  to  a  full  dinner,  prepared 
in  that  style  which  the  gentry  of  Ireland  are  accustom- 
ed to  prepare  for  guests  ;  but  what  was  food  to  me  1 
The  sights  at  Arranmore  were  food  sufficient.  What 
could  be  done  1  Mrs.  Forster  said,  she  had  written  to 
England,  till  she  was  ashamed  to  tire  their  generosity 
again  ;  not  once  had  she  been  refused  from  the  church- 
es there,  and  she  felt  that  their  patience  must  be  ex- 
hausted. She  gave  the  names  of  some  of  her  donors. 
A  letter  was  written  in  the  desperation  of  feeling  to  an 
Independent  minister  there ;  and  God  forever  bless 


108 


ANNALS  or  THE 


him  and  his  people,  for  the  ready  response.  Arran- 
more  was  relieved  a  little. 

The  next  day,  a  ride  of  eight  miles  took  me  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Griffith  ;  and  here  was  a  family  made  up 
of  that  kindness  which  the  husband  and  father  possess- 
ed. He  occupied  a  spot  among  the  honest  poor  indeed. 
We  went  over  the  bleak  waste,  to  visit  a  romantic  pile 
of  cliff,  upon  the  sea-coast,  and  on  our  way  the  laugh- 
ing sport  of  children  suddenly  broke  upon  the  ear,  the 
first  I  had  heard  since  the  famine  ;  it  was  from  behind 
a  little  hillock,  and  the  sound  was  mournfully  pleasant. 
We  hurried  on  to  greet  the  joyous  ones ;  and,  unper- 
ceived,  saw  two  little  ragged  girls,  not  wasted  entirely 
by  hunger,  who  had  come  out  of  a  little  dark  cluster  of 
stone  cabins,  and  forgetting  their  sufferings,  were  play- 
ing as  other  children  play.  We  saluted  them,  and  told 
them  to  "play  on,  we  are  glad  to  see  your  sports." 
We  spoke  of  the  allusion  of  the  prophet,  when  boys  and 
girls  are  again  "  to  be  seen  playing  in  the  streets  of 
Jerusalem,"  as  a  token  of  its  happiness — a  happiness 
which,  until  the  famine  of  Ireland,  I  never  valued 
enough,  but  novj  it  is  one  of  the  brightest  sunbeams 
that  shine  across  my  path.  We  at  last  reached  one  of 
the  most  fearful,  sublime,  and  dangerous  broken  piles  of 
rocks  imaginable,  tumbled  together,  and  standing  al- 
most perpendicularly  over  the  ocean.  Deep  and  fright- 
ful caverns  yawned  between  them,  and  how  they  came 
tumbled  in  this  mass  never  has  been  made  out ;  they 
appeared  as  if  shaken  together  by  some  sudden  crash, 
and  stopped  while  in  their  wildest  confusion,  each  seiz- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


109 


ing  hold  of  its  contiguous  one  to  save  it  from  falling.  I 
was  glad,  quite  glad  to  get  away,  for  had  my  foot 
stumbled  or  slipped,  some  dark  deep  gulf  might'  have 
placed  me  bevond  help  or  hope.  Ossian  might  have 
made  his  bed  among  these  caves,  when  he  says — 

"  As  two  dark  streams  from  high,  rocks  meet  and  mix." 

Rain  hurried  us  to  our  dinner,  and  poured  upon  us, 
during  the  ride  of  eight  miles,  in  darkness,  to  the  cot- 
tage of  Dungloe.  A  little  incident  occurred  this  even- 
ing, which  happily  testified  to  a  remark  made  by  Mr. 
Forster,  in  a  letter  to  a  committee,  during  the  famine. 
Speaking  of  the  starving  poor,  he  says,  "  They  are  suf- 
fering most  patiently ',  and  in  this  parish,  where  there 
are  ten  thousand  souls,  not  one  single  outrage  has  ever 
been  committed  in  the  memory  of  man." 

Mrs.  Forster  and  myself  in  our  retreat  and  hurry  had 
neglected  to  shut  the  hall  door  ;  m  the  morning  it  was 
quite  open  and  the  hall  floor  covered  with  water. 
"  What  a  dangerous  condition,"  I  said,  "  is  this',  to 
leave  a  house  at  night,  especially  in  a  time  of  hunger, 
as  the  present."  "  Not  in  the  least,"  was  the  answer  ; 
"  I  should  not  be  afraid  to  leave  every  door  unlocked 
at  night,  and  every  window  open,  with  food  or  any 
other  property  in  reach ;  not  the  least  iota  would  be 
touched  by  one  of  them."  This  was  self-discipline, 
which  can  scarcely  be  reconciled  with  hunger  in  any 
stomachs  but  the  Irish. 

A  letter  from  Mrs.  Griffith,  in  the  spring  of  1849, 
says,  that  the  people  of  Arranmore  had  recovered  their 


110 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


former  standing,  that  relief  was  immediately  sent  from 
England,  and  they  had  saved  as  much  for  seed  as  they 
could,  and  not  starve.  Five  hundred  died  from  famine 
on  that  island.  The  potatoe  was  not  blasted  the  fol- 
lowing year,  and  they  again  looked  up  with  tolerable 
comfort.  The  island  has  since  been  sold,  and  cultiva- 
tion will  be  carried  on  upon  a  more  extensive  and  pro- 
fitable scale.  Could  a  new  race  of  landlords  settle  up- 
on that  coast,  and  drain  and  plow  the  now  useless  soil, 
the  tenants  that  are  drooping  and  discouraged,  would 
lift  up  their  heads  with  joy  and  hope.  The  air  blows 
as  pure  as  ever  breezes  did  ;  and  were  industry  encour- 
aged, and  food  abundant,  the  inhabitants  would  cause 
the  grave-digger  to  have  the  same  source  of  complaint 
that  once  was  made  in  the  South,  when  a  poor  woman 
exclaimed,  "  The  times  are  dreadful,  ma'am,  Patrick 
has  not  put  a  spade  to  the  ground  this  six  weeks,  not  a 
word  of  lyin." 

The  comfort  and  hospitality  at  Roshine  Lodge  must 
be  left,  and  with  the  kind  Mrs.  F.  and  her  friend  I 
turned  away  sadly  from  the  scenes  of  desolation  there 
witnessed,  and  again  went  to  Gwcedore,  to  meet  Mrs. 
Hcwitson,  who  was  to  accompany  me  to  Belfast,  and 
we  prepared  for  the  journey.  She  had  distributed  her 
grants,  and  her  unceasing  labors,  often  for  twenty  hours 
in  twenty-four,  called  for  relaxation.  We  left  the 
pretty  spot  in  sadness,  for  the  starving  were  crowding 
about  and  pressing  her  for  food,  following  the  carriage 
— begging  and  thanking — blessing  and  weeping.  We 
were  obliged  to  shake  them  off,  and  hurried  in  agony 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


Ill 


away.  "  Many  of  these  poor  creatures,"  she  observed, 
M  will  be  dead  on  my  return."  On  our  way  we  passed 
the  afternoon  and  night  at  Derry ;  it  was  a  day  for  a 
flower  and  cattle  show.  Here  were  attracted  most  of 
the  gentry  in  the  county,  as  well  as  nobility ;  and  we 
had  an  opportunity  of  sitting  on  a  seat  upon  the  sloping 
side  of  a  hill,  for  nearly  three  hours,  in  a  public  garden, 
which  overlooks  a  pretty  part  of  the  town,  and  feasting 
our  eyes  with  a  view  of  it.  It  was  supposed  nearly 
three  thousand  ladies  had  come  out  in  their  best,  on 
this  pleasant  day,  to  see  this  pretty  show  of  flowers  ; 
and  though  these  were  almost  surpassingly  beautiful, 
as  Ireland's  flowers  are,  yet  the  ladies  were  more  so. 
Their  pretty  figures,  (for  they  are  in  general  of  a  fine 
form,)  and  becoming  dresses,  in  all  the  variety  of 
modern  colors  and  fashions,  brought  me,  after  more  than 
two  hours'  admiration,  to  the  conclusion  that  a  more 
beautiful  assemblage  of  females,  of  the  like  number, 
could  not  be  found.  Had  the  women  been  educated 
after  the  model  of  Solomon  and  Paul's  "  virtuous  wo- 
men and  housekeepers,"  what  a  crown  of  glory  would 
they  be '?  But  alas  !  The  most  of  the  fine  material 
of  which  woman  is  composed,  is  made  up  for  ornament 
rather  than  use,  in  that  unhappy  country.  A  few  Mrs. 
Hewitsons  and  Forsters  are  sprinkled  here  and  there, 
and  many  can  be  found  in  Belfast  who  have  arisen  to  a 
higher  standard  in  this  respect  than  the  country  in  gene- 
ral ;  and  the  famine,  which  has  been  the  proof  of  all 
that  is  praiseworthy  and  all  that  is  deficient  in  females, 
has  shown  that  Belfast  has  a  capital,  which  when  em- 


112 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


ployed  can  bo  worked  to  a  great  and  good  advantage. 
But  their  late  rising  and  late  breakfasts  wasted  the  best 
part  of  the  day  ;  and  their  foolish  custom,  which  made 
it  approach  to  vulgarity  to  give  a  call  before  twelve,  re- 
tarded much  that  might  have  been  done  more  easily  and 
effectually.  It  is  much  to  be  scrupled  whether  one 
arose  u  while  it  was  yet  dark,  to  prepare  meat  for  her 
maidens." 

I  spent  a  day  in  the  Library,  which  was  instituted  in 
1788,  and  now  contains  8,000  volumes,  without  one  of 
fiction.  Is  there  another  library  on  the  globe  that  can 
say  this  1  It  speaks  more  for  the  good  sense  and  cor- 
rectness of  principle  in  the  people  of  Belfast  than  any 
comments  or  praise  whatever  can  do.  I  felt,  while  sit- 
ting there,  that  here  was  an  atmosphere  of  truth,  entirely 
new.  What  would  the  reading  community  of  all  na- 
tions be,  if  youth  had  access  to  such  libraries  as  these, 
and  to  no  others  1 

From  Belfast  I  went  up  the  coast  of  Antrim,  visited 
many  beautiful  towns  and  places,  but  all  was  saddened 
by  the  desolations  of  the  famine.  Industrial  schools 
were  everywhere  showing  their  happy  effects ;  and  often 
by  the  wayside,  in  clusters  upon  a  bank,  or  under  a 
tree  in  some  village,  were  young  girls  with  their  fancy 
knitting,  sitting  pleasantly  together,  busy  at  their  work ; 
and  this  was  a  striking  fact,  that  in  no  case,  where  they 
were  thus  employed,  did  they  look  untidy  ;  though  their 
garments  were  of  the  plainest  and  poorest,  yet  they  ap- 
peared cleanly.  I  visited  a  school  at  Larne,  of  this 
description,  conducted  by  a  pious  widow  woman  ;  and 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


113 


the  arrangements,  in  all  respects,  reflected  honor  on  the 
superintendents  and  teacher.  Their  reading,  writing, 
working,  and  knowledge  of  the  scriptures,  manifested 
great  wisdom  and  faithfulness  in  the  teacher,  as  well  as 
aptness  in  the  scholars.  The  most  useful  work  was 
done  there,  and  the  finest  fancy  material,  much  of  which 
has  been  sold  in  London,  at  a  fair  price,  for  the  benefit 
of  the  poor  children.  One  little  girl  of  twelve,  by  her 
industry  in  that  school,  the  preceding  winter,  had  kept 
a  family  of  three  or  four  from  the  poor-house  by  her 
fancy  knitting,  occasionally  working  nearly  all  night. 
The  father  came  to  the  window  with  a  load  of  turf,  to 
thank  her  for  the  instruction  of  the  child,  which  had  fed 
them  through  the  winter,  and  this  small  token  of  his 
gratitude,  humble  as  it  was,  he  hoped  she  would  not  re- 
fuse. These  schools,  scattered  through  the  island,  in 
the  midst  of  the  desolating  famine,  looked,  to  the  travel- 
er, like  some  humble  violet  or  flower,  springing  in  the 
desert  or  prairie,  where  a  scathing  fire  had  swept  over 
the  plain,  and  withered  all  that  was  most  prominent  to 
the  beholder.  Never  did  I  see  a  company  of  these  lit- 
tle ones,  at  their  cheerful  work,  or  have  one  present  me 
with  a  specimen  of  her  attainments,  but  the  unassuming 
hope-cheered  look,  eloquently  said,  "  Will  you  let  us 
live  1  Will  you  give  us  our  honest  bread,  for  the  will- 
ing labor  of  our  hands,  and  allow  us  a  dwelling-place 
among  the  nations  of  the  earth  1"  Here  in  these  pret- 
ty towns,  along  the  coast  of  Antrim,  had  the  poor-laws 
manifested  their  handy-work.  The  advice  of  Daniel 
O'Connell  concerning  them,  was,  "  If  you  begin  to 


114 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


build  poorhouscs,  you  had  better  at  once  make  one  grand 
roof  over  the'  whole  island,  for  in  due  time  the  whole 
country  will  need  a  shelter  under  it."  This  precaution 
was  not  altogether  a  random  one,  for  already  had  many 
of  the  industrious  respectable  tradesmen  and  widows, 
who  were  keeping  lodging-houses,  been  compelled  to 
give  up  their  business — the  taxes  had  come  in  and  taken 
all  within  doors,  which  would  sell  at  auction,  for  the 
poor-rates.  I  was  directed  to  a  respectable  house  to 
procure  lodgings  for  a  few  days ;  the  disheartened 
widow  said,  "  Two  days  ago  I  could  have  given  you  a 
well-furnished  bedroom  and  parlor,  but  now  I  have  nei- 
ther table,  chair,  or  carpet  on  the  floors  ;  the  money 
was  demanded  for  a  new  tax  just  levied,  I  could  not 
raise  it,  my  furniture  was  taken,  and  I  have  no  means 
to  fetch  it  back,  or  to  get  bread."  She  could  not  ex- 
pect respectable  lodgers  to  stop  with  her,  and  saw  no- 
thing but  hunger  or  the  poorhouse  for  herself  and 
children.  Telling  her  if  she  would  give  me  a  place  to 
lie  down,  I  would  stop,  and  give  the  usual  price,  she 
gladly  accepted  it,  and  the  money  paid  her  for  this  was 
all  the  means  she  had  to  get  one  meal  for  herself  and 
three  children,  while  I  was  in  the  house.  This  was  a 
person  of  good  reputation,  kept  a  tidy,  well-furnished 
lodging-house  ;  and  before  the  extra  taxes  had  been 
laid  on,  had  been  able  to  put  by  a  little  money,  but  it 
had  all  been  demanded  the  past  year,  and  the  means  • 
taken  away  to  procure  any  more.  This  was  the  condi- 
tion of  the  entire  country. 

While  riding  upon  the  car,  the  driver  pointed  to  a 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


115 


peculiar  dwelling,  with  a  sign  for  refreshment,  saying, 
"  The  woman  here  is  a  lucky  one,  for  she  pays  no  rent ; 
if  you  wish  I  will  stop  and  let  you  go  in."  The  entrance 
was  through  a  door,  into  a  cave,  which  narrowed  as  it 
extended  back,  till  it  came  to  a  point,  and  was  very 
much  in  the  shape  of  a  harrow.  A  person  could  stand 
upright  at  the  mouth,  but  must  stoop,  and  then  crawl, 
if  he  proceeded.  The  old  woman  lit  up  her  torch,  and 
crept  on,  insisting  that  I  should  follow.  The  passage 
was  so  long,  dark,  and  narrow,  that  paying  the  old  wo- 
man her  expected  sixpence,  I  got  excused.  She  had  an 
old  bed,  lying  by  the  side  of  one  wall  of  the  cave,  a  lit- 
tle table  on  the  other,  on  which  she  kept  cakes  and 
"  the  drap  of  whisky,"  for  the  traveler  ;  and  she  told 
us  merrily,  that  no  landlord  had  disturbed  her,  and  she 
had  got  the  comfortable  "  bit  "  for  many  a  twelve- 
month. Happy  old  woman  !  It  is  hoped  that  when 
her  gray  hairs  shall  be  removed  to  a  still  darker  cave, 
'the  inheritance  will  fall  to  some  other  houseless 
head,  who,  like  her,  shall  enjoy  unmolested  and  unen- 
vied  this  happy  den,  which  like  comfort  few  of  the  poor 
outcasts  of  Ireland  can  ever  hope  to  attain.  Some  of 
the  most  romantic  spots  are  scattered  upon  this  coast, 
which  is  for  many  a  mile  enlivened  by  white  rocks,  and 
small  white  pebbles,  near  the  sea,  so  that  the  whole  is 
so  inviting,  taking  sea,  rocks,  beautiful  road,  and  in 
many  places  backed  by  the  rich  woodland,  that  I  left 
the  carriage,  and  loitered  among  the  varying  beauties  of 
running  brooks,  murmuring  cascades,  neat  cottages  and 
pretty  churches,  and  deep  green  glens.    My  imagina- 


116 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


tion  was  inclining  to  drink  in  the  spirit  of  the  simple 
little  boy  who  accompanied  me.  When  looking  down 
from  an  eminence,  on  the  path  where  we  were  walking, 
I  saw  a  crumbling  stone  cabin,  deep  below  me,  in  so 
narrow  a  defile  that  its  opposite  walls  nearly  extended 
to  the  perpendicular  hills  on  each  side  ;  and  inquiring 
of  the  child  who  could  ever  build  there,  expecting  to 
live  in  it,  he  simply  replied,  "  Oh,  lady  !  that  is  a 
fairy's  house  ;  the  people  have  put  on  the  roof  many  a 
time,  but  at  night  the  fairies  come  and  take  it  off. 
They  live  in  this  glen,  ma'am."  "  Then  the  fairies  do 
not  like  roofs  to  their  houses  ?"  "  I  'spose  not, 
ma'am." 

These  fairies  have  doubtless  saved  many  an  agent  or 
tithe-gatherer  a  "  good  baitin',"  whose  cowardly  con- 
science has  come  by  night  to  rob  some  corn  or  hay-stack 
for  his  unjust  gain.  Leaving  my  little  companion,  I 
ascended  higher  and  higher,  till  at  my  feet  far  away 
stretched  the  broad  sea  ;  and  about  were  sprinkled 
cabins,  looking  like  the  "shabby  gentility,"  which  a  de- 
cayed person  who  had  fallen  from  higher  life  keeps  up. 
I  entered  one  of  cleanly  appearance,  and  stumbled  up- 
on a  most  frightful  sight.  A  woman  with  a  child  on 
her  lap  gave  me  an  indifferent  nod  of  welcome,  and 
pointed  to  a  bed  through  the  door  ;  supposing  some 
starving  object  lay  there,  I  turned  to  look,  and  on  a  bed 
lay  her  husband,  his  face  uncovered,  swollen  and  black, 
entirely  blind,  and  blood  still  fresh  about  his  hair  and 
pillow,  and  he  speechless.    She  was  alone  with  him, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


117 


her  infant  the  only  inmate  :  the  doctor  had  just  left 
without  dressing  his  face. 

The  story  was,  two  hours  before,  going  to  his  labor,  a 
furious  bull  had  broken  from  his  fastenings  and  was  in 
mad  pursuit  after  a  lady,  whose  screams  attracted  the 
poor  laborer  ;  he  ran  with  his  spade,  rushed  between 
the  horns  of  the  animal  and  the  lady,  but  could  not  save 
himself  from  the  bull,  which  trampled  him  in  the  dirt, 
gored  his  face,  broke  his  upper  jaw,  and  tore  apart  one 
nostril.  Three  of  the  animal's  legs  were  tied  with  the 
rope  when  he  accomplished  all  this.  The  story  ended 
by — "  Thank  God,  the  lady  was  saved,  and  the  mad 
bull  shot  by  the  owner,"  and  not  one  word  of  complaint 
about  her  husband.  When  I  said,  "  What  a  pity  that 
he  went  near  him."  u  But,  ma'am,  didn't  he  go  to  save 
the  lady,  and  wouldn't  she  been  kilt  if  he  hadn't  done 
it?"  So  much  for  being  a  lady  in  Ireland,  and  for  Irish 
courage  and  humanity.  Returning  to  Belfast,  I  pre- 
pared for  Dublin,  and  again  sought  out  old  Cook 
Street ;  some  of  my  pensioners  had  removed,  but  none 
dead  :  their  rent  had  been  left  to  be  paid  weekly  for 
them,  and  sufficient  knitting  given  for  their  employ. 
Another  grant  was  coming  for  me,  to  be  deposited  at 
Belfast,  and  the  expense  of  transportation  to  Dublin 
would  be  such,  that  it  was  placed  in  the  trustworthy 
hands  of  Mrs.  Hewitson,  who  could  get  it  conveyed  to 
her  destitute  people  at  a  smaller  expense,  when  she 
should  return.  This  donation,  she  afterwards  said, 
was  eked  out  for  months  at  the  most  sparing  rate  ;  and 
the  only  relief  she  had  in  her  power  during  the  follow- 


118 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


ing  -winter  season.  A  box  of  clothing  was  in  my  pos- 
session, and  with  this  and  a  little  money,  I  resolved  to 
go  to  the  western  coast,  in  Connaught.  I  went,  and 
Connaught  will  long  live  in  my  memory,  for  there  are 
still  scenes  of  suffering,  of  cruelty,  and  of  patience, 
which  no  other  people  yet  have  showrn  to  the  world. 
That  people  who  from  the  time  of  the  invasion  have 
been  "  hunted  and  peeled,"  treated  as  the  "  offscour- 
ing  of  all  things,"  driven  into  "  dens  and  caves  of  the 
earth,"  as  the  only  shelter,  now  still  live,  to  hold  out  to 
the  world  that  lineament  of  the  "  image  of  God,"  which 
is,  and  which  must  be  the  everlasting  rebuke  of  their 
persecutors  ;  which  says  in  the  face  and  eyes  of  all 
mankind,  to  their  spoilers — "  You  have  hated  me,  you 
have  robbed  me,  you  have  shorn  me  of  my  beauty ;  and 
now,  while  famine  is  eating  up  my  strength,  gnawing 
my  vitals,  you  are  turning  me  into  the  storm,  -without 
food,  or  even  "  sheep-skins  or  goat-skins  "  for  a  cover- 
ing ;  and  then  tauntingly  saying,  M  Wherein  have  we 
robbed  you  ?" 

I  took  the  train  at  Dublin,  for  twenty-five  miles,  then 
a  coach  to  Tuam,  where  I  tarried  one  night.  This  is  the 
residence  of  Bishop  M'Hale,  and  a  somewdiat  respecta- 
ble old  towTn  ;  but  the  picture  of  sorrow  was  here  too, 
and  the  .next  morning  I  gladly  proceeded  to  Newport. 
It  rained  hard,  we  were  on  an  open  car,  and  the 
WTetchedness  of  the  country  made  it  altogether  a  dismal 
ride.  When  we  had  reached  a  few  miles  of  the  town, 
a  dissipated,  tattered,  and  repulsive  looking  man  was 
seated  before  me  on  the  car,  which  was  not  a  little  an- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


119 


noying,  for  he  might  be  a  little  intoxicated.  "  Has  he 
paid  his  fare,"  I  asked  the  coachman,  knowing  that  if 
he  had,  he  had  the  same  right  as  I  had  ;  and  still  more, 
it  would  confirm  me  in  the  opinion  that  if  he  had  money 
to  pay  his  ride,  he  might  have  money  for  drink.  We 
went  on,  my  unpleasant  companion  never  once  speaking, 
till  we  reached  our  stopping-place,  the  Post-Office,  at 
Newport.  Here,  at  my  old  tried  friend's,  Mrs.  Arthur, 
I  met  with  a  cordial  welcome,  and  getting  from  the  car, 
was  still  more  annoyed  to  see  this  out-of-the-way  com- 
panion reach  the  door  before  me,  and  fall  prostrate  in 
the  passage  ;  this  was  certainly  proof  that  he  had  been 
taking  whisky,  for  he  did  not  look  like  one  in  the  last 
stages  of  starvation.  My  severity  upon  myself  was 
equal  to  my  surprise,  when  we  found  that  it  was  ex- 
haustion occasioned  by  hunger.  When  he  could  speak 
in  a  whisper,  he  begged  Mrs.  Arthur  to  take  a  few 
sovereigns,  which  he  had  sewed  up  in  his  ragged  coat, 
and  send  them  to  his  wife  and  children,  who  were  suf- 
fering for  food.  He  had  been  at  work  in  England,  and 
knowing  the  dreadful  state  his  family  were  in  at  home, 
had  saved  the  few  sovereigns,  not  willing  to  break  one, 
and  endeavored  to  reach  home  on  a  few  shillings  he  had, 
and  being  so  weak  for  want  of  food,  he  occasionally  rode 
a  few  miles  when  it  rained,  and  had  not  eaten  once  in 
two  days.  "  Send  them  quick,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  not 
live  to  reach  home."  O,  shame  !  shame  !  on  my 
wicked  suspicions  ;  how  should  I  be  thus  deceived  !  I 
could  not,  I  would  not  forgive  myself.    His  story  was 


120 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


a  true  one,  and  by  proper  care  he  lived  to  follow  his 
sovereigns  home. 

The  astonishing  suffering  and  self-denial  of  that  peo- 
ple for  their  friends,  is  almost  heart-rending.  It  is  ex- 
jweted  that  mothers  will  suffer,  and  even  die  for  their 
famishing  little  ones,  if  needful ;  but  to  see  children 
suffer  for  one  another  was  magnanimity  above  all.  Two 
little  orphan  boys,  one  about  nine  and  the  other  five, 
called  at  the  door  of  a  rich  widow  of  my  acquaintance, 
and  asked  for  food.  The  woman  had  consumed  all  her 
bread  at  breakfast  but  a  small  piece,  and  giving  this  to 
the  eldest,  she  said,  "  You  must  divide  this  with  your 
little  brother;  I  have  no  more."  She  looked  after 
them  unperceived,  and  saw  them  stop,  when  the  eldest 
said,  "  Here,  Johnny,  you  are  littler  than  I,  and  can- 
not bear  the  hunger  so  well,  and  you  shall  have  it  all." 
They  were  both  houseless  orphans  and  starving  with 
hunger. 

I  found  here,  at  Newport,  misery  without  a  mask ; 
the  door  and  window  of  the  kind  Mrs.  Arthur  wore  a 
spectacle  of  distress  indescribable ;  naked,  cold,  and 
dying,  standing  like  petrified  statues  at  the  window,  or 
imploring,  for  God's  sake,  a  little  food,  till  I  almost 
wished  that  I  might  flee  into  the  wilderness,  far,  far 
from  the  abode  of  any  living  creature. 

Mrs.  Arthur  said,  "I  have  one  case  to  place  before 
you,  and  will  leave  all  the  rest  to  your  own  discretion. 
I  have  fed  a  little  boy,  once  a  day,  whose  parents  and 
brothers  and  sisters  are  dead,  with  the  exception  of  one 
little  sister.    The  boy  is  seven  years  old,  the  sister  five. 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


121 


They  were  told  they  must  make  application  to  the  poor- 
house,  at  Castlebar,  which  was  ten  Irish  miles  away. 
One  cold  rainy  day  in  November,  this  boy  took  his  little 
sister  by  the  hand,  and  faint  with  hunger,  set  off  for 
Castlebar.  And  now,  reader,  if  you  will,  follow  these 
little  bare-footed,  bare-headed  Commught  orphans 
through  a  muddy  road  of  ten  miles,  in  a  rainy  day, 
without  food,  and  see  them  at  the  workhouse,  late  at 
night.  The  doors  are  closed — at  last,  they  succeed  in 
being  heard.  The  girl  is  received,  the  boy  sent  away — 
no  room  for  him — he  made  his  way  back  to  Newport  the 
next  morning,  and  had  lived  by  crawling  into  any  place 
he  could  at  night,  and  once  a  day  called  at  the  door  of 
my  friend  who  fed  him. 

He  soon  came  a  fine-looking  boy,  with  unusually  ma- 
tured judgment.  The  servant  was  paid  for  taking  him 
into  an  outhouse  and  scrubbing  him  thoroughly,  &c.  A 
nice  black  suit  of  clothes  was  found  in  the  American 
box,  with  a  cap  suited  to  his  head ;  and  when  he  was 
suitably  prepared  by  the  servant,  the  clothes  were  put 
on.  He  had  not,  probably,  been  washed  for  six  months, 
and  his  clothes  were  indescribable  ;  his  skin,  which  had 
been  kept  from  wind  and  sun,  by  the  coat  which  had  so 
long  been  gathering,  was  white,  and  so  changed  was  he 
wholly  and  entirely,  that  I  paused  to  look  at  him  ;  and 
tied  about  his  neck  a  pretty  silk  handkerchief,  to  finish 
the  whole.  "  What  do  you  say  now,  my  boy  ;  I  shall 
burn  your  old  clothes,  and  you  never  shall  see  them 
again  V9  A  moment's  hesitation — he  looked  up,  I  sup- 
posed to  thank  me,  when  to  my  surprise,  he  burst  into 
6 


122 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


an  agony  of  loud  weeping.  "  What  can  be  the  mat- 
ter V9  He  answered,  "  Now  I  shall  sure  die  with  the 
hunger  ;  if  they  see  me  with  nice  clothes  on,  they  will 
say  I  tell  lies,  that  I  have  a  mother  that  minds  me  ;  and 
lady,  you  won't  burn  them  old  clothes,"  (turning  about 
to  gather  them  up)  ;  and  if  I  had  not  sternly  command- 
ed him  to  drop  them,  he  would  have  clasped  them  close, 
as  his  best  and  dearest  friends.  In  truth,  this  was  a 
new  development  of  mind  I  had  never  seen  before, 
clinging  with  a  firm  grasp  to  a  bundle  of  filthy,  forbid- 
ding garments,  as  the  only  craft  by  which  to  save  his 
life ;  choosing  uncleanliness  to  decency,  at  an  age  too 
when  all  the  young  emotions  of  pride  generally  spring 
up  in  fondness  for  new  and  pretty  garments.  The  silk 
handkerchief  seemed  almost  to  frighten  him.  Was  it 
the  principle  of  association,  which  older  people  experi- 
ence when  they  cling  to  objects  which  have  been  their 
companions  in  trial,  or  those  places  where  they  have 
seen  their  dearest  comforts  depart  ?  He  would  not  have 
consented  to  have  left  those  old  clothes  behind,  but  by 
a  promise  which  he  could  hardly  believe  ;  that  he  should 
be  fed  every  day  through  the  winter.  He  was  taken 
immediately  to  a  school,  where  the  children  were  fed 
once  a  day,  and  instructed  for  a  penny  a  week ;  this 
penny,  the  teacher  said,  should  not  be  exacted,  as  he 
had  been  clothed  by  me.  I  saw  the  boy  through  the 
winter,  three  months  after  his  clothes  were  tidy  and  had 
not  been  torn,  and  he  was  improving. 

His  fears  respecting  the  "  hungry  "  were  not  ground- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


123 


less,  no  stranger  would  have  believed  that  he  needed 
charity,  when  decently  clad. 

From  Newport  I  went  to  Achill  Sound.  Here  was 
enough  to  excite  the  pity  and  energy  of  all  such  as  pos- 
sessed them.  This  wild  dreary  sea-coast  at  any  time 
presents  little  except  its  salubrity  of  air,  and  grandeur 
of  storms  and  tempests,  tempered  with  the  beauty  of  its 
varied  clouds,  when  lighted  by  the  sun,  to  make  it  the 
most  inviting  spot.  But  now  the  work  of  death  was 
going  on  ;  and,  notwithstanding  the  exertions  of  Mr. 
Savage,  with  the  aid  of  the  Central  Committee  in  Dub- 
lin, and  government  relief  beside,  at  times  it  seemed  to 
mock  all  effort.  Mr.  Savage  seemed  to  be  in  the  po- 
sition of  the  u  ass  colt M  in  scripture,  "  tied  where 
two  ways  meet."  He  had  the  island  of  Achill  on  one 
side  across  the  Sound,  and  a  vast  bog  and  mountainous 
waste  on  the  other,  with  scarcely  an  inhabitant  for 
many  a  mile,  (but  the  colony  of  Mr.  Nangle,)  which 
could  subsist  only  but  by  charity.  The  groups  which 
surrounded  the  house,  from  the  dawn  of  day  till  dark, 
called  forth  the  incessant  labors  of  many  hands,  both 
male  and  female,  to  appease  the  pitiful  requests  multi- 
plying around  them.  Oh  !  the  scenes  of  that  dreadful 
winter  !  Who  shall  depict  them,  and  who  that  saw 
them  can  ever  forget  1  I  have  looked  out  at  the  door 
of  that  house,  and  seen  from  three  to  five,  six,  and  se- 
ven hundred  hovering  about  the  windows  and  in  the 
corners,  not  one  woman  or  child  having  a  shoe  upon 
their  feet,  or  a  covering  upon  the  head,  with  ghastly, 
yes,  ghostly  countenances  of  hunger  and  despair,  that 


124 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


mock  all  description.  One  fact  among  the  many  is  re- 
corded, which  transpired  a  few  weeks  before  related  to 
me  by  Mrs.  Savage,  which  had  novelties  peculiar  to  it- 
self 

ABRAHAM   AND  SARA. 

Mrs.  Savage  saw  standing  at  her  door,  among  the 
crowd,  while  the  relief  was  giving  out,  a  feeble  old  wo- 
man, bare-footed,  and  her  feet  and  legs  swollen  so  that 
they  assumed  a  transparency,  which  always  indicated 
that  death  had  begun  its  fatal  ravages.  She  was  near- 
ly a  hundred  years  of  age ;  her  becoming  bearing  and 
cleanly  appearance,  united  with  her  age,  caused  Mrs. 
S.  to  inquire  particularly  who  she  was. 

"  Why  are  you  here — do  you  belong  in  this  parish  ! 
You  are  a  stranger !"  "  I  am,  in  troth,  a  stranger. 
My  name  is  Sara,  and  I  have  now  come  into  the  parish 
to  stop,  in  a  little  cabin,  convenient  to  ye,  and  sure  ye 
won't  refuse  the  poor  owld  body  a  bit  of  the  relief." 

Abraham,  her  husband,  was  sitting  upon  a  form, 
among  the  crowd,  waiting  an  answer  to  Sara's  request. 

They  were  fed,  but  Sara  could  not  be  restored.  She 
often  called,  on  days  when  the  relief  was  not  given  out, 
and  was  once  told  that  she  was  troublesome ;  she  ac- 
knowledged it  in  the  most  simple  manner,  and  in  a  few 
days  ceased  coming. 

Not  long  after  Abraham  called  to  say  that  Sara  was 
ill,  and  had  been  obliged  to  leave  the  cabin  where  she 
had  been  stopping,  and  he  had  made  her  a  shelter  under 
a  bank,  in  the  bog,  by  the  strand.    She  was  no  longer 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


125 


able  to  walk  about,  and  daily  Abraham  brought  a  little 
saucepan,  suspended  by  a  cord  for  a  handle,  to  get  the 
broth,  which  Mrs.  S.  provided  for  his  beloved  Sara. 
He  said  he  "  had  made  her  as  comfortable  as  his  owld 
hands  could,  but  the  breath  would  soon  be  cowld  in  her, 
for  she  could  scarcely  lift  the  hand  to  raise  the  broth  to 
the  lip."  This  bed  was  made  in  the  bog,  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  sea,  but  sheltered  from  its  spray  by  a  bank, 
under  which  a  narrow  place  had  been  dug  by  Abraham, 
which  partly  covered  Sara.  Heath  was  put  down  for 
her  bed,  and  pieces  of  turf  for  her  pillow ;  a  wall  of 
turf  a  few  inches  high  extended  round,  making  the  shape 
of  a  bed,  against  the  side  of  which  was  a  fire  of  turf, 
made  to  warm  the  broth ;  and  this  was  Abraham  and 
Sara's  house.  Abraham's  part  was  wholly  unsheltered. 
For  days  she  was  nursed  in  the  most  careful  manner ; 
her  cloak  was  wrapped  snugly  about  her  ;  the  heath 
under  her  was  smoothed,  and  her  broth  carried  by  Abra- 
ham ;  and  he  even  washed  her  garments  in  the  sea, 
"  for  Sara,"  he  said,  "  loves  to  be  clean."  In  spite  of 
all  his  care  the  life  of  Sara  was  fast  ebbing ;  and  Mary 
A.,  who  had  seen  before  the  bed  where  she  lay,  called 
one  evening  and  found  her  much  altered.  She  raised 
her  up,  gave  her  a  little  milk,  which  she  could  scarcely 
swallow.  "  I  am  departing,"  she  whispered,  "  and 
will  ye  give  my  blessin'  to  the  mistress'?"  She  had 
come  into  the  parish,  she  said,  to  die,  because  "  she 
knew  the  mistress  would  put  a  coffin  on  her  owld  body." 
While  Mary  was  here,  Abraham  hastened  to  Mrs.  S. 
to  procure  some  necessaries  for  the  night ;  then  return- 


120 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


ing,  he  sat  by  the  side  of  Sara  till  she  died.  He  was 
sitting  alone,  by  her  lifeless  body,  when  Mary  returned 
in  the  morning.  The  mistress  was  soon  there.  She 
had  ordered  a  coffin,  and  brought  a  sheet  to  wrap  around 
her  body,  and  a  handkerchief  to  put  about  her  head. 
Mary  washed  and  combed  her,  and  found  in  her  pocket 
a  piece  of  white  soap,  carefully  wrapped  in  a  linen  rag, 
and  a  clean  comb,  which  were  all  that  appertained  to 
Sara  of  this  world's  wealth,  except  the  miserable  gar- 
ments she  had  upon  her.  When  the  body  was  shroud- 
ed, it  was  placed  in  her  coffin  of  white  boards  ;  a  boat- 
man and  Mary  lifted  her  into  a  boat ;  Abraham  and 
the  mistress  seated  themselves  in  it,  and  were  rowed  to 
land,  and  put  the  remains  of  Sara  in  an  out-house  be- 
longing to  Mr.  Savage,  for  the  night,  and  a  comfortable 
place  was  provided  for  Abraham  to  lie  down.  Early  in 
the  morning  Abraham  was  found  sitting  on  the  cart, 
which  bore  Sara  from  the  boat,  with  his  gray  head  lean- 
ing against  the  locked  door,  weeping.  He  had  waited 
till  all  was  still,  and  then  crept  to  the  spot  which  in- 
closed the  remains  of  her  he  loved,  to  weep  alone,  in 
the  stillness  of  night.  Not  one  that  saw  him  but 
wept  too. 

This  simple-hearted  man,  like  the  patriarch  whose 
name  he  bore,  was  a  stranger  and  sojourner,  like  him 
he  had  come  to  mourn  for  Sara,  and  he  had  come  too  to 
ask  a  burial-place  for  his  dead,  though  he  could  not, 
like  him,  offer  a  sum  of  money  ;  he  could  not  take  his 
choice  in  the  sepulchres  ;  no  field  of  Ephron,  nor  the 
trees  within  were  made  sure  to  him,  but  in  a  lone  bog, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


1^7 


where  those  who  ha  1  died  by  famine  and  pestilence  were 
buried,  like  dogs,  unshrouded  and  uncofiined,  he  wa3 
grateful  to  find  a  place  to  bury  his  "  dead  out  of  his 
sight."  The  corpse  was  borne  away  by  a  few  boatmen 
across  the  channel ;  and  Sara  was  conveved  to  her  lon^ 
hone.  I  saw  Abraham  early  in  December.  1547,  and 
the  bed  which  he  made  for  Sara,  on  that  bleak  sea-shore. 
The  turf  wall  was  still  unbroken  ;  the  smoke,  where  the 
fire  had  been  made,  had  left  its  blackness ;  and  a  piece 
of  turf,  partly  consumed,  was  lying  by  this  hearth ;  the 
heath-bed  had  not  been  stirred,  and  I  begged  Mrs.  S. 
to  keep  it  from  the  inroad  of  cattle.  A  wall  of  stone 
should  be  built  around  that  dwelling,  and  the  traveler 
pointed  to  it,  ~s  a  relic  of  the  greatest  interest. — A 
relic  of  Ireland- s  woes  ! 

I:  is  said  that  Sara,  in  her  fathers  house,  was  "fair 
to  look  upon,"  and  enjoyed  in  plenty  the  good  things  of 
this  life ;  and,  say3  Mrs.  S.,  "  when  first  I  saw  her  the 
sun  was  shining  in  full  strength  upon  her  marble  face  ; 
and  so  swollen  its  wrinkles  were  smooched  ;  her  counte- 
nance was  mild,  her  manner  modest  and  pleasing,  and 
she  was  an  object  of  much  admiration.  She  lay  in  that 
lowly  bed  in  storm  and  sunshine,  by  night  and  by  day, 
till  the  "  good  God,"  as  she  expressed  it,  "  should  plaise 
to  take  her  away."  yet  lowly  as  was  her  couch,  lonely 
as  was  her  wake,  unostentatious  as  was  her  burial,  few, 
in  her  condition,  were  honored  with  so  good  a  one. 

In  the  same  vicinity  was  the  bed  of  a  little  orphan 
girl,  who  had  crept  into  a  hole  in  the  bank,  and  died 
one  night,  with  no  one  to  spread  her  heath-bed,  or  to 


128 


ANNAI.S   OF  THE 


close  her  eyes,  or  wash  and  fit  her  for  the  grave.  She 
died  unheeded,  the  dogs  lacerated  the  body,  gnawed  the 
bones,  and  strewed  them  about  the  bog. 

DEATH  AND  BURIAL  OF  ABRAHAM. 

Abraham  called  one  day  in  December,  at  the  house 
of  Mr.  Savage,  and  sorrow  and  hunger  had  greatly 
changed  his  looks.  His  garments  which  had  been  kept 
tidy  by  Sara,  were  now  going  to  decay.  He  stood  si- 
lently at  the  door,  with  a  subdued  look,  and  a  little 
brown  bag  and  staff  in  his  hand.  I  saw  him  there,  and 
among  the  throng  marked  his  shades  of  sorrow,  and  in- 
quired who  he  was.  "  It  is  Abraham,  the  old  hands 
that  made  Sara's  bed,"  was  the  answer. 

Abraham  knew  and  felt  the  change  in  himself,  and 
seeking  an  opportunity,  asked  for  a  piece  of  soap, 
touching  his  collar,  which  Sara  had  always  kept  clean, 
saying,  "  I  do  not  like  the  feel  of  it."  Food  and  a 
little  money  were  given  him :  he  went  away,  and  on 
his  boggy  path  to  his  humble  home  he  fell  down  and 
broke  his  arm  ;  he  lingered  on  a  few  days  in  destitution 
and  pain,  and  the  next  that  we  heard  of  him,  two  men 
who  were  walking  toward  sunset  on  Sabbath  day,  met 
his  daughter  who  had  a  shelter  in  the  mountain,  where 
she  had  kept  her  father,  with  Abraham  upon  her  back, 
with  his  arms  about  her  neck,  a  loathsome  corpse,  which 
she  had  kept  in  her  cabin  for  days,  and  was  going  alone 
with  a  spade  in  her  hand  the  distance  of  an  Irish  mile, 
to  bury  him.  They  took  the  corpse  and  accompanied 
her,  and  put  him  into  the  ground  as  he  was,  neither  with 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


129 


a  coffin  nor  by  the  side  of  Sara  whom  he  had  loved  and 
cherished  so  well. 

Thus  died  Sara  and  Abraham,  and  thus  they  were 
buried,  and  let  their  epitaph  be — "  Lovely  and  pleasant 
in  their  lives,  though  in  death  they  were  divided." 

DRINKING  HABITS. 

Let  the  reader's  mind  be  a  little  relieved  by  a  subject 
different,  though  as  painful  in  a  moral  sense  as  famine 
is  in  a  natural  one.  I  allude  to  the  fearful ,  sinful  use 
of  all  kinds  of  intoxicating  drinks  in  Ireland  in  the  time 
of  the  famine.  Much  noise  has  been  made  the  last  nine 
or  ten  years  respecting  the  great  temperance  reform  in 
that  country.  But  who  have  been  reformed  1  Travel 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  island,  even  in  the  midst 
of  desolation  and  death,  and  in  how  many  families  when 
a  piece  of  flesh  meat  can  be  afforded  upon  the  dinner- 
table,  would  the  tea-kettle  for  hot  whisky  be  wanting 
at  the  close  of  dinner  ?  The  more  costly  wines,  too, 
were  on  the  tables  of  the  nobility,  and  not  always  want- 
ing among  the  gentry.  The  clergy  of  all  denominations, 
in  that  country,  are  sad  examples  to  the  flock.  Father 
Mathew  is  praised  by  some  of  these  Bible  ministers,  be- 
cause he  kept  the  "  lower  order"  from  fighting  at  fairs  ; 
but  the  very  fact  that  the  vulgar  were  reclaimed,  was  a 
stigma  upon  temperance  in  their  enlightened  opinions. 
Four  years  and  four  months'  residence  in  Ireland, 
changing  from  place  to  place,  and  meeting  with  many 
ministers  of  all  denominations,  not  a  solitary  case  do  I 
recollect  of  finding  a  minister  of  the  Established,  Pres- 


130 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


byterian,  or  Methodist  church,  who  did  not  plead  for 
the  moderate  use  of  this  fatal  poison.  I  met  with  one 
Baptist  minister,  one  Unitarian,  and  a  few  priests,  who 
abstained  entirely. 

The  famine,  if  possible,  urged  many  of  the  lovers  of 
the  c<  good  creature,"  to  greater  diligence  in  the  prac- 
tice to  "  keep  themselves  up,"  as  they  said,  in  these 
dreadful  times.  They  preached  sermons  on  charity — 
they  urged  the  people  to  greater-self- denial — they  talk- 
ed of  the  great  sin  of  improvidence,  of  which  Ireland  is 
emphatically  guilty ;  but  few,  very  few,  it  is  to  be  fear- 
ed, touched  one  of  these  burdens  so  much  as  with  one 
of  their  fingers.  There  were  noble  cases  of  hard  labor, 
and  even  curtailing  of  expenses,  by  some  of  the  clergy  ; 
even  labor  was  protracted  till  it  ended  in  death  by 
some,  but  these  were  isolated  cases  indeed: 

An  able  writer,  who  wrote  the  pamphlet  on  Irish 
Improvidence ,  placed  the  subject  in  the  most  fearful 
light,  when  he  said,  "  Next  to  the  absurdity  of  Cork 
and  Limerick  exporting  cargoes  of  Irish  grain  for  sale, 
and  at  the  same  time  receiving  cargoes  of  American 
grain  to  be  given  away  at  the  cost  of  the  English  peo- 
ple, may  be  ranked  the  folly — if  it  may  not  properly  be 
called  by  some  worse  name — of  seeing  hundreds  dying 
for  want  of  food,  at  the  same  time  permitting  the  con- 
version of  as  much  grain  as  would  feed  the  whole  of 
those  dying  of  starvation,  and  many  more,  into  a  fiery 
liquid,  which  it  is  well  known,  even  to  the  distillers 
themselves,  never  saved  a  single  life  or  improved  a  sin- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


131 


gle  character,  never  prevented  a  single  crime,  or  ele- 
vated the  character  of  a  single  family  by  its  use." 

Reader,  ponder  this  well. — Enough  grain,  converted 
into  a  poison  for  body  and  soul,  as  would  have  fed  all 
that  starving  multitude  ;  while  the  clergy  were  preach- 
ing, committees  were  in  conclave,  to  stimulate  to  charity, 
and  devise  the  most  effectual  methods  to  draw  upon  the 
purses  of  people  abroad. 

And  what  shall  be  said  of  the  pitiful  landlords,  who 
were  still  drinking  their  wine,  pouring  their  doleful  com- 
plaints into  government's  ears,  that  no  rents  were  paid  ; 
and  many  saying,  as  one  of  these  wine-bibbers  did,  that 
his  lazy  tenants  would  not  work  for  pay,  for  he  had  of- 
fered that  morning,  some  men  work  who  were  hungry, 
and  would  pay  them  at  night,  and  they  walked  away 
without  accepting  it.  "  How  much  pay  did  you  offer  V* 
he  was  asked.  "  A  pound  of  Indian  meal,"  (Indian 
meal  was  then  a  penny  a  pound.)  u  Would  you,  sir, 
work  for  that,  and  wait  till  night  for  the  meal,  when 
you  were  then  suffering  V?  Much  better  try  to  procure 
it  before  night  in  some  easier  way. 

But  these  afflicted  landlords,  the  same  writer  remarks, 
when  exporting  to  the  continent  vast  quantities  of  grain, 
which  their  poor  starving  tenants  had  labored  to  pro- 
cure, and  were  not  allowed  to  eat  a  morsel  of  this  food  ; 
but  buy  it  from  others  or  starve.  Neither  can  it  be 
doubted,  nor  should  it  be  concealed,  that  not  a  few  of 
these  landlords,  while  their  grain  was  selling  at  a  good 
price  abroad,  shared  the  benefit  of  many  an  Indian  meal 
donation,  for  horses,  hogs,  fowls,  and  servants.  The 


132 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


guilty  arc  left  to  "make  the  application,  none  others  are 
implicated. 

I  would  not  say  that  every  man  who  takes  a  glass  of 
spirits,  as  he  says,  moderately,  is  guilty  of  downright 
dishonesty,  or  not  to  be  trusted  with  the  property  of 
others  ;  hut  it  may  properly  be  said,  that  such  are  in 
the  path  to  the  hotbed  where  every  evil  work  is  culti- 
vated ;  and,  therefore,  more  to  be  scrupled  than  those 
who  from  conscience  would  "  cut  off  a  right  arm  or 
pluck  out  a  right  eye,"  rather  than  give  offense. 

Had  all  the  professed  Christians  in  Ireland  entirely 
excluded  alehololic  drinks  from  their  tables  and  houses, 
thousands  might  now  be  living  who  have  been  starved. 

I  was  once  in  a  miserable  part  of  the  country,  where 
death  was  doing  a  fearful  work,  and  was  stopping  in  a 
house  ranked  among  the  respectables,  when  a  company 
of  ministers,  who  had  been  attending  a  public  meeting 
in  the  town,  were  assembled  for  dinner.  The  dinner 
was  what  is  generally  provided  for  ministers — the  richest 
and  best.  Wine  and  brandy  were  accompaniments. 
When  these  heralds  of  salvation  heard  a  word  of  re- 
monstrance, they  put  on  the  religious  cant,  and  cited  me 
immediately  and  solemnly  the  "  Marriage  of  Cana," 
and  the  tribunal  of  Timothy's  stomach  for  my  doom ; 
declaring  that  God  sanctioned,  yea  required  it ;  and 
ratified  it  by  taking  in  moderation  what  their  conscience 
told  them  was  duty.  They  were  pointed  directly  to  the 
suffering  of  the  people  for  bread,  and  the  great  difficulty 
of  procuring  coffins,  all  this  did  not  move  their  brandy- 
seared  hearts.    When  in  an  hour  after  dinner  the  tea 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


133 


wa?  served,  as  is  the  custom  in  Ireland,  one  of  the 
daughters  of  the  family  passing  a  window,  looked  down 
upon  the  pavement  and  saw  a  corpse  with  a  blanket 
spread  over  it,  lying  upon  the  walk  beneath  the  window. 
It  was  a  mother  and  infant,  dead,  and  a  daughter  of  six- 
teen had  brought  and  laid  her  there,  hoping  to  induce 
the  people  to  put  her  in  a  coffin  :  and  as  if  she  had  been 
listening  to  the  conversation  at  the  dinner  of  the  want 
of  coffins,  she  had  placed  her  mother  under  the  very 
window  and  eye,  where  these  wine-bibbing  ministers 
might  apply  the  lesson.  All  was  hushed,  the  blinds 
were  immediately  down,  and  a  few  sixpences  were  quite 
unostentatiously  sent  out  to  the  poor  girl,  as  a  begin- 
ning, to  procure  a  coffin.    The  lesson  ended  here. 

And  I  would  conclude  this  episode  by  saying,  that  at 
the  door  of  professed  Christians  of  the  intelligent  class, 
lies  the  sin  of  intemperance  in  that  suffering  country, 
and  though  some  of  them  have  preached  and  labored 
hard  in  those  dark  days,  yet  they  have  not  done  what 
they  could,  and  in  this  they  should  not  be  commended ; 
but  rebuked  most  faithfully. 


CHAPTER  V. 


"  However  darkly  stained  by  sin, 
He  is  thy  brother  yet." 

It  was  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Savage,  at  the  Sound, 
where  I  first  met  with  the  Hon.  William  Butler.  He 
insisted  on  my  going  to  Erris,  as  a  spot  of  all  others  the 
most  wretched,  offering  kindly  to  pay  my  passage  in  an 
open  boat,  which  was  to  take  him  there.  We  went : 
he  observed  on  the  passage,  that  he  had  always  feared 
the  water,  and  would  prefer  any  death  almost  to  that  of 
drowning.  He  was  drowned  the  next  season  while  on  a 
visit  to  the  continent. 

We  reached  Bclmullet ;  he  secured  me  a  lodging ; 
but  the  rector  called  and  invited  me  to  spend  the  time 
at  his  house,  and  I  did  so.  But  here  was  a  place 
which  might  justly  be  called  the  "  fag-end"  of  misery. 
It  semed  to  be  a  spinning  out  of  all  that  was  fearful  in 
suffering,  and  whoever  turned  his  eye  there  needed  no 
other  point  of  observation,  to  see  all  that  famine  and 
pestilence  could  do.  It  appeared  like  a  vast  crucible, 
where  had  been  concocted  all  that  was  odious,  all  that 
was  suffering  ;  and  which  had  been  emptied,  leaving 
the  dregs  of  the  mass  unfit  for  any  use. 

Well  did  James  Tuke  say,  in  his  graphic  description 


THE  FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


135 


of  Erris,  that  he  had  visited  the  wasted  remnants  of 
the  once  noble  Red  Man  in  North  America,  and  the 
"  negro-quarter"  of  the  degraded  and  enslaved  Afri- 
can ;  but  never  had  he  seen  misery  so  intense,  or  phy- 
sical degradation  so  complete,  as  among  the  dwellers  in 
the  bog-holes  of  Erris. 

"  Figure  and  mien,  complexion  and  attire, 
Are  leagued  to  strike  dismay." 

The  few  resident  landlords  in  this  barony,  containing 
in  the  year  1846,  a  population  of  twenty-eight  thou- 
sand, were  now  reduced,  by  the  extreme  poverty  of  the 
tenantry,  to  a  state  of  almost  hopeless  desperation. 
The  poor-house  was  a  distance  of  forty  miles  to  Bal- 
lina ;  and  the  population  since  the  famine  was  reduced 
to  twenty  thousand — ten  thousand  of  these  on  the  ex- 
treme borders  of  starvation — crawling  about  the  streets 
— lying  under  the  windows  of  such  as  had  a  little  food, 
in  a  state  of  almost  nudity.  Being  situated  on  the 
north-east  coast  of  Mayo,  it  has  the  Atlantic  roaring 
and  dashing  upon  two  sides  of  it ;  and  where  the 
wretched  dwellers  of  its  coasts  are  hunting  for  sea- 
weed, sand-eels,  &c,  to  appease  their  hunger,  and 
where  in  many  cases,  I  truly  thought  that  man  had 
nearly  lost  the  image  in  which  he  was  created.  This 
coast  is  noted  for  shipwrecks  ;  and  many  of  the  in- 
habitants, in  former  days,  have  subsisted  very  com- 
fortably upon  the  spoils. 

A  Mrs.  D.  called  one  morning  to  take  a  walk  with 
me  upon  a  part  of  the  sea-coast,  called  u  Cross." 


136 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Nature  here  seemed  to  have  put  on  her  wildest  dress, 
for  in  the  whole  barony  of  Erris  there  is  but  one  tree, 
and  that  a  stinted  one  ;  and  this  barony  extends  thirty- 
five  miles.  But  here  our  walk  seemed  to  be  through 
something  unlike  all  I  had  seen.  In  some  places 
nature  appeared  like  a  maniac,  who,  in  her  ravings, 
had  disheveled  her  locks  and  tattered  her  garments.  In 
others,  she  put  on  a  desponding  look,  as  if  almost  de- 
spairing, yet  not  not  unwilling  to  be  restored,  if  there 
were  any  to  comfort  her  ;  in  others,  the  bold  cliffs 
dashed  by  the  maddening  waves,  seemed  like  a  lion 
rising  from  his  lair,  and  going  forth  in  fury  for  his 
prey.  Three  miles  presented  us  with  grand,  beautiful, 
and  painful  scenes  ;  the  air  was  salubrious — the  sun 
was  bright ;  the  unroofed  cabins  silent  and  dreary,  told 
us  that  the  ejected  inmates  were  wandering  shelterless 
or  dead,  many  of  whom  were  buried  under  the  ruins, 
who  were  found  starved  in  a  putrid  state  ;  and  having 
no  coffins,  the  stones  of  the  cabins  were  tumbled  upon 
them.  Mrs.  D.  was  one  of  those  sensitive  beings  who 
are  capable  of  enjoying  the  beauties  of  nature,  and 
capable  too  of  suffering  most  keenly.  She  had  tasted 
deeply  of  sorrow — was  a  new-made  widow — her  mother 
had  died  but  a  few  months  previous — an  adopted  child, 
a  lovely  niece  of  ten  years  old,  had  died  a  few  weeks 
before.  As  we  neared  the  burying-ground  she  pointed 
to  the  spot,  saying,  "  There  I  put  her,  my  fair  blos- 
som ;  and  there,  by  her  side,  I  put  her  uncle,"  (mean- 
ing her  husband,)  "  five  weeks  after  ;  but  you  must 
excuse  me  from  taking  you  there,  for  I  could  not  ven- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


13T 


ture  myself  where  they  lie,  because  they  will  give  me 
no  welcome,  nor  speak  a  kind  word,  as  they  used  to 
do."  We  passed  over  sand-banks  and  ditches,  to  the 
cottage  where  her  father  and  mother  had  lived  and 
died,  leaving  two  sisters  and  two  brothers  on  the  pa- 
ternal estate.  The  cottage  had  no  wicket-gate,  no 
flowers  nor  shrubs  ;  but  standing  upon  the  margin  of 
the  lake,  it  seemed  modestly  to  say,  "  Walk  in,  my 
comforts  shall  be  equal  to  all  I  have  promised."  The 
interior  was  neat.  Here  were  the  remains  of  an  an- 
cient family,  who  had  "lived  to  enjoy,"  who  could 
walk  or  ride,  could  entertain  guests  in  true  Irish  hospi- 
tality, for  many  a  century  back;  but  death  had  re- 
moved the  head  of  the  family  ;  famine  had  wasted  the 
tenantry ;  the  fields  were  neglected ;  "  and  here," 
said  the  sister  who  kept  the  cottage,  "  we  are  sitting  as 
you  see,  with  little  to  cheer  us,  and  less  to  hope  for  the 
future."  We  visited  the  churchyard,  which  my  com- 
panion thought  she  could  not  see — a  brother  offered  to 
be  her  companion — and  we  found  it  upon  a  rising  hil- 
lock, by  the  sea-side  ;  it  was  a  Protestant  one,  and  a 
snug  church  had  stood  near ;  but  the  landholder,  Mr. 
Bingham,  had  caused  it  to  be  taken  clown,  and  another 
built  in  a  town  or  village  called  Bingham's  Town. 
Here  was  another  specimen  of  the  peculiar  grave-yards 
on  the  sea-coast  of  Ireland.  The  better  classes  have  a 
monument  of  rough  stones  put  over  the  whole  surface 
of  the  grave,  elevated  a  few  feet,  and  cemented  with 
mortar.  The  poorer  classes  must  be  content  to  lie 
under  a  simple  covering  of  rough  stones,  without  being 


138 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


elevated  or  cemented.  We  waited  a  few  moments  till 
the  sister,  who  sat  down  upon  the  grave  of  the  little 
one,  had  indulged  her  grief  for  the  two  departed,  and 
I  only  heard  her  say,  "  Ah  !  and  you  will  not  speak  to 
me."  An  ancient  abbey  was  near,  said  to  be  a 
thousand  years  old ;  and  so  closely  had  the  Catholics 
buried  their  dead  there  that  it  appeared  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, like  one  vast  pile  of  stones  tumbled  together. 
The  Protestants  and  Romanists  do  not  choose  to  place 
their  dead  in  contact ;  and  these  two  were  distinct ; 
but  they,  also,  had  their  "  respectable  monuments," 
for  we  saw,  on  a  nearer  approach,  that  this  grave -yard 
had  elevated  cemented  tombstones ;  the  ground  was 
high,  and  no  walls,  but  the  roaring  old  sea  upon  one 
side — which  sometimes  boldly  reaches  out  and  snatches 
a  sleeper  from  his  bed.  The  scattered  bones  that  lay 
about,  told  that  it  must  long  have  been  the  "  place  of 
skulls."  The  last  year  had  made  great  accessions  to 
the  pile,  which  could  easily  be  known  by  their  fresh- 
ness, and  ropes  of  straw  and  undried  grass  brought 
here  by  relatives,  to  put  over  the  uncofHncd  bodies 
of  their  friends.  Here  were  deposited  five  or  six  sail- 
ors, belonging  to  a  vessel  from  Greenock,  which  was 
wrecked  on  this  coast  the  preceding  spring.  The 
bodies  washed  ashore,  and  a  brother  of  the  lady  with 
me  dug  a  pit  and  put  them  in,  spreading  over  their 
faces  the  skirt  of  one  of  their  overcoats,  "  to  screen," 
as  he  said,  "  the  cruel  clay  from  their  eyes."  These 
poor  sailors,  unknown  and  unwept,  were  buried  by  the 
hand  of  a  stranger,  on  a  foreign  shore  ;  but  somewhere 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


139 


they  might  have  had  mothers  who  waited  and  asked  in 
vain  for  the  absent  ship. 

As  these  sailors  hare  no  monument  to  tell  their  pa- 
rentage, let  it  be  recorded  here,  that  in  the  spring  of 
1847,  a  vessel  was  wrecked  on  the  desolate  coast  of 
Erris,  and  every  soul  on  board  was  lost.  The  vessel 
sailed  from  Greenock,  in  Scotland.  While  sitting  in 
the  cottage,  in  the  evening,  the  lady  who  accompanied 
me  brought  a  lid  of  a  box,  which  was  taken  from  among 
the  wreck  of  that  lost  ship,  and  on  it  was  written  : — 

"  Soda  Biscuit,  by  ,  Corner  of  Beekman  and 

Cliff  Street,  New  York."  The  name  was  so  defaced 
it  could  not  be  made  out.  This  added  new  interest  to 
the  shipwreck,  when  meeting  an  inscription  from  the 
street  where  I  had  lived,  and  the  shop  in  which  I  had 
traded,  and  was  told  that  the  vessel  was  freighted  with 
provisions  for  the  starving  of  Ireland.  This  was  a 
mistake. 

In  the  morning,  when  the  sun  was  rising,  we  ascend- 
ed a  hill,  among  the  desolate  cabins,  where  once  was 
the  song  of  health,  and  where  far  off  in  the  west,  the 
sea  stretched  wide,  and  the  variegated  clouds  gilded 
with  the  morning  sun,  were  dipping  apparently  in  its 
waters.  This,  said  a  daughter  of  the  family,  was 
once  a  pretty  and  a  grand  spot :  here,  two  years  ago, 
these  desolate  fields  were  cultivated,  and  content  and 
cheerfulness  were  in  every  cabin.  Now.  from  morning 
to  night  they  wander  in  search  of  a  turnip,  or  go  to  the 
sea  for  sea-weed  to  boil,  and  often  have  we  found  a 
corpse  at  the  door,  that  the  brother  you  see  u  might 


140 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


put  a  board  on"  'em."  We  have  often  seen  an  ass 
passing  our  window  carrying  a  corpse,  wound  about 
with  some  old  remnant  of  a  blanket  or  sheet ;  and  thus, 
flung  across  its  back,  a  father  or  mother,  wife  or  hus- 
band, was  carried  to  the  grave.  Sometimes,  when  the 
corpse  was  a  little  child,  or  it  might  be  more  than  one, 
they  were  put  into  a  couple  of  baskets,  and  thus  bal- 
anced upon  the  sides  of  the  ass,  this  melancholy  hearse 
proceeded  on  without  a  friend  to  follow  it,  but  the  one 
who  was  guiding  the  beast.  These  burials  tell  more  of 
the  paralysing  effects  of  famine  than  anything  else  can 
do ;  for  the  Irish  in  all  ages,  have  been  celebrated  for 
their  attention  to  the  interment  of  their  dead,  sparing 
no  expense. 

When  I  stood  in  the  burying-ground  in  that  parish, 
I  saw  the  brown  silken  hair  of  a  young  girl,  waving 
gently  through  a  little  cleft  of  stones,  that  lay  loosely 
upon  her  young  breast.  They  had  not  room  to  put  her 
beneath  the  surface,  but  slightly,  and  a  little  green 
grass  was  pulled  and  spread  over,  and  then  covered 
with  stones.    I  never  shall  forget  it. 

"  The  blast  of  the  desert  comes, 
Her  loose  hair  flew  on  the  wind." 

In  some  parts  the  soil  was  manured  with  the  slain. 
When  the  famine  first  commenced,  efforts  were  made 
to  procure  coffins  ;  but  the  distress  became  so  great 
to  the  living,  that  every  penny  that  could  be  pro- 
cured must  be  given  for  food ;  and  the  famished  rel- 
atives, at  last,  were  grateful  if  some  hand  stronger 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


141 


than  theirs  would  dig  the  pit,  and  put  down  the  uncof- 
fined  body. 

One  Sabbath,  when  I  was  in  Erris,  the  day  was  so 
stormy  that  the  church  service  was  suspended.  A 
barefooted  woman,  who  one  year  before  had  called  to 
sell  milk  and  kept  a  fine  dairy,  came  into  the  house 
where  I  was,  and  calling  me  by  name,  said  :  "  Will  ye 
give  me  something  to  buy  a  coffin  to  put  on  my  hus- 
band ;  he  died  yesterday  on  me,  and  it  would  be  a  pity 
to  put  him  in  the  ground  without  a  board,  and  he  is  so 
swelled,  ma'am,  not  a  ha'porth  of  his  legs  or  belly  but 
is  ready  to  burst,  and  but  a  fivepence-halfpemry  could 
I  gather,  and  the  little  boys  are  ashamed  to  go  out  and 
ask  the  charity  for  him." 

This  is  an  illustration  not  only  of  the  state  into  which 
famine  has  thrown  the  country,  but  the  apathy  of  feel- 
ing which  the  most  tender-hearted  people  on  the  globe 
manifested.  A  woman  compelled  to  go  out  in  a  most 
perilous  storm,  upon  a  wild  sea-coast,  unprotected  by 
clothes,  and  without  a  morsel  of  food  for  twenty-four 
hours,  to  procure  a  coffin  for  her  husband,  who  had 
died  by  starvation  ! 

THE   SOLDIERS   OF  BELMULLET. 

Among  the  marvels  and  dreadfuls  of  Erris,  the 
Queen's  soldiers  certainly  deserve  a  place  in  history. 
Government  in  her  mercy  had  deposited  in  a  shop  some 
tons  of  Indian  meal,  to  be  sold  or  given  out,  as  the 
Commissariat  should  direct,  for  the  benefit  of  the  peo- 
ple.   This  meal  was  in  statu  quo,  and  hunger  was 


142 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


making  fearful  inroads.  One  hundred  and  fifty-one 
soldiers,  cap-a-pie,  were  marching  before  and  around 
this  shop,  with  bayonets  erect,  from  early  dawn  till  late 
in  "  dusky  eve,"  to  guard  this  meal.  They  certainly 
made  a  warlike  bloody-looking  array,  when  contrasted 
with  the  haggard,  meager,  squalid  skeletons  that  were 
grouped  in  starving  multitudes  about  them,  who,  if  the 
whole  ten  thousand  starving  ones  in  the  barony  had 
been  disposed  to  rise  en  masse,  scarcely  had  strength 
to  have  broken  open  a  door  of  the  shop,  or  to  have 
knocked  down  a  soldier  ;  but  here  they  were,  glistening 
in  bright  armor,  and  the  people  dying  with  hunger 
about  it.  These  soldiers  were  alive  to  their  duty  on 
all  and  every  occasion.  One  Sabbath  morning  when 
the  church  prayers  were  in  full  progress,  they  marched 
up  under  arms,  with  fife  and  drum  playing  merrily  the 
good  old  tune  of  "  Rory  O'More."  The  modest  rec- 
tor suspended  operations,  the  congregation  in  breath- 
less silence,  most  of  them  arose  from  their  seats  ;  the 
army  entered,  doffed  their  caps,  planted  their  arms, 
and  quietly,  if  not  decently,  took  their  seats,  and  sat 
till  prayers  and  sermon  were  ended  ;  as  soon  as  "  Old 
Hundred"  closed  the  worship,  these  soldiers  resumed 
their  arms,  and  the  musicians,  upon  the  threshold  of 
the  door,  struck  up  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me 
and  the  congregation,  a  little  confused,  walked  out.  I 
never  heard  it  applauded  nor  ever  heard  it  censured, 
but  by  one.  To  say  the  least  of  the  morality  of  Erris, 
their  drinking,  and  card-playing,  and  dancing  habits, 
would  well  comport  with  the  army  or  navy  ;  but  they 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


143 


were  quite  in  advance  of  anything  I  had  seen  in 
any  part  of  Ireland.  Here  I  saw  the  cobweb  covering 
flung  about  fallen  man,  to  hide  his  deformity,  torn  aside, 
and  scarcely  a  vestige  was  there  of  beauty,  amiability, 
or  even  decency  left. 

The  hotel  keeper  was  in  the  habit  of  collecting  a  few 
shillings  from  lodgers  and  travelers,  and  distributing 
them  in  pennies,  to  the  starving,  in  the  morning. 
These  recipients  were  as  ravenous  as  hungry  lions  and 
tigers,  as  void  of  reason,  and  more  disgusting  to  the 
sight.  If  man  is  to  be  guided  by  reason,  then  when 
reason  is  extinct,  upon  what  can  he  fall  back  1  If  the 
instinct  that  is  planted  in  man  is  the  image  of  God,  in 
which  He  is  made,  then  where  this  God  is  extinguished 
there  can  be  nothing  but  a  wreck — a  mass  of  neither 
man  nor  brute  ;  for  if  he  have  lost  the  image  of  God, 
and  has  not  the  instinct  of  animals,  he  stands  out  an 
unnatural  growth,  to  be  wondered  at  rather  than  ad- 
mired. I  could  scarcely  believe  that  these  creatures 
were  my  fellow-beings.  Never  had  I  seen  slaves  so 
degraded  ;  and  here  I  learnt  that  there  are  many  pages 
in  the  volume  of  slavery,  and  that  every  branch  of  it 
proceeds  from  one  and  the  same  root,  though  it  assumes 
different  shapes.  These  poor  creatures  are  in  as  vir- 
tual bondage  to  their  landlords  and  superiors  as  is  pos- 
sible for  mind  or  body  to  be.  They  cannot  work  unless 
they  bid  them  ;  they  cannot  eat  unless  they  feed  them  ; 
and  they  cannot  get  away  unless  they  help  them. 

From  Belmullet,  Rosport  was  my  destiny,  a  distance 
of  twelve  miles — a  romantic  place  on  the  sea-coast, 


1U 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


"where  resided  three  families  of  comparative  comfort ; 
but  their  comforts  were  threatened  most  fearfully  by 
the  dreadful  scourge  ;  fever  was  everywhere,  and  hun- 
ger indeed  had  filled  a  grave-yard,  which  lay  at  the 
foot  of  a  mountain,  so  full  that  scarcely  any  distinction 
could  be  seen  of  graves,  but  now  and  then  a  stick  at 
the  head  or  foot  of  one.    By  the  road-side  a  family  of 
four  or  five  had  made  a  temporary  shelter,  waiting  for 
a  son  to  die,  whom  they  had  brought  some  miles  across 
the  mountains,  that  he  might  be  buried  in  a  grave-yard 
where  the  dogs  would  not  find  him,  as  there  was  a  wall 
about  this.    He  died  of  consumption,  and  the  family 
were  fed  while  there,  and  then  went  away  when  they 
had  buried  their  boy.    The  family  of  Samuel  Bourne 
were  the  most  comfortable,  but  they  had  a  burden  like 
an  incubus,  with  the  mass  of  starving  creatures.  Mr. 
Carey,  the  Coast  Guard,  was  .kind,  and  his  wife  and 
daughters  patterns  of  industry  and  attention  to  the 
poor  ;  but  with  limited  means,  what  could  they  do  to 
stay  the  plague  ?    Everything  that  could  be  eaten  was 
sought  out  and  devoured,  and  the  most  hazardous  at- 
tempts were  made  to  appease  hunger  by  the  people. 
This  coast  has  some  of  the  greatest  objects  of  curiosity  ; 
and  so  long  have  the  inhabitants  been  accustomed  to 
look  at  them,  that  they  walk  fearlessly  upon  the  dan- 
gerous precipices,  and  even  descend  them  to  the  sea,  in 
search  of  eggs,  which  the  sea-gulls  deposit  there,  in  the 
sides  of  the  cliffs.    TwTo  women  presumptuously  descend- 
ed one  of  these  cliffs,  not  far  from  Mr.  Carey's,  in  search 
of  sloke,  which  is  gathered  from  the  sea.    They,  in 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  145 

their  hunger,  ventured  to  stop  till  the  tide  washed  in 
and  swept  them  away.  Two  men  were  dashed  from  a 
fearful  height  and  dreadfully  mangled  ; — one  was  killed 
instantly — the  other  lingered  a  few  weeks  and  died. 
They  were  both  in  search  of  eggs  to  appease  hunger. 
They  seemed  to  face  danger  in  a  most  deliberate  man- 
ner, and  go  where  none  but  the  goat  or  eagle  would 
venture.  In  this  parish  I  found  a  specimen  of  that 
foolish  pride  and  inability  of  a  class  of  genteel  Irish 
women,  to  do  anything  when  difficulties  present  them- 
selves. It  was  a  young  lady  who  lived  back  two  miles 
upon  the  mountain,  who  belonged  to  one  of  the  faded 
Irish  "  respectables  she  was  educated  in  the  popular 
genteel  superficial  style,  and  the  family  had  some  of 
them  died,  and  all  broken  down  :  she,  with  her  brother- 
in-law,  from  Dublin,  was  staying  in  a  thatched  cottage, 
which  had  yet  the  remains  of  taste  and  struggling  gen- 
tility. Two  of  the  peasant  women  had  seen  Mr. 
Bourne  and  me  going  that  way,  and  by  a  shorter  path 
had  hastened  and  given  the  Miss  notice,  so  that  when 
we  entered,  the  cottage  was  in  trim,  and  she  in  due 
order  to  receive  us.  But  that  pitiful  effort  was  to  me 
painful  to  witness,  having  been  told  that  she  suffered 
hunger,  and  knew  no  possible  way  of  escape,  yet  she  as- 
sumed a  magnanimity  of  spirit  and  complained  not, 
only  expressed  much  pity  for  the  poor  tenants  on  the 
land  about  her,  and  begged  us  if  possible  that  we  would 
send  some  relief.  Her  table  was  spread  with  the 
fashionable  ornaments  which  adorn  the  drawing-rooms 
of  the  rich  ;  and  she,  with  a  light  scarf  hung  carelessly 
7 


146 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


about  her  shoulders,  genteel  in  form  and  pretty  in 
feature,  was  already  looking  from  eyes  that  were  put- 
ting on  the  famine  stare.  "  What  can  be  done  with 
that  helpless,  proud,  interesting  girl  V9  said  Mr.  Bourne, 
as  we  passed  away ;  "  she  must  die  in  all  her  pride,  if 
some  relief  is  not  speedily  found  !  she  cannot  work,  she 
would  not  go  to  the  work-house,  and  there,  upon  that 
desolate  mountain,  she  will  probably  pine  away  un- 
heeded !"  I  have  not  heard  what  became  of  this  pretty 
girl  of  the  mountain  since.  "  She  was  covered  with 
the  light  of  beauty,  but  her  heart  was  the  house  of 
pride."  Another  interesting  character,  the  antipodes 
of  the  mountain  girl,  resided  in  the  family  of  Mr. 
Bourne.  Nature  had  endowed  her  with  good  sense, 
education  had  enlarged  her  intellect,  and  traveling  had 
given  her  that  ease  of  manner  and  address  that  made 
her  accessible  to  all,  without  stooping  from  that  dignity 
which  properly  repels  all  uncourteous  familiarity.  She 
had  passed  through  great  reverses  : — had  been  to  India 
— there  had  a  handsome  legacy  bequeathed — was  ship- 
wrecked and  lost  all  ; — went  to  South  and  North 
America — her  health  was  destroyed,  but  her  heart 
subdued,  and  brought  into  sweet  submission  to  Christ, 
and  she  resolved  to  spend  the  remainder  of  her  days  in 
doing  good  to  others,  however  humble  their  station 
might  be.  She  had  heard  of  this  family,  stationed  on 
this  desolate  spot,  who  had  interesting  so^s  and  daugh- 
i  ters  that  wished  for  instruction.    There  she  went,  and 

determined  to  die  and  be  buried  there,  secluded  from 
the  world.    She  had  written  her  travels,  but  had  placed 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


147 


her  manuscripts  in  hands  who  were  not  to  publish  them 
till  after  her  death.  On  that  bleak  coast  she  had  found 
where  a  company  of  seventeen  shipwrecked  sailors  had 
been  buried,  in  a  mound,  and  she  had  requested  to  lie 
near  their  resting-place.  She  took  me  to  walk,  and 
showed  me  the  forbidding-looking  spot.  I  could  scarcely 
think  her  sincere,  but  she  assured  me  that  it  was  a 
lovely  spot  to  her.  She  was  then  perhaps  not  yet 
fifty,  and  why  she  should  think  of  soon  dying  and  lying 
there  I  could  not  tell ;  but  the  intelligent  and  ac- 
complished Miss  Wilson  died  in  a  few  months  after,  in 
the  full  hope  of  a  happy  immortality,  and  was  buried 
with  the  shipwm  ked  sailors  on  that  rocky  coast. 

"  She  sleeps  in  une. ivied  repose,  and  I  would  not  wake  her." 

Here  in  a  humble  cabin  the  kind  Miss  Carey  com- 
menced a  little  school,  to  do  what  she  could  to  keep 
alive  the  scattered  lambs  of  that  desolate  parish,  in 
order  that  she  might  give  them,  through  some  relief 
society,  a  little  food  once  a  day,  and  teach  them  to  read. 
Her  cabin  was  soon  filled,  and  without  the  promise  of 
any  reward  she  labored  on,  happy  to  see  the  avidity 
with  which  these  poor  children  received  instruction, 
and  for  a  year  she  continued  her  labor  of  love  with  but 
little  remuneration,  and  at  last,  with  much  regret,  was 
obliged  to  return  them  to  their  mountain  home — per- 
haps to  perish.  It  was  affecting  everywhere  in  the 
famine,  to  witness  the  pale  emaciated  children,  walking 
barefoot  for  miles  to  school,  and  study  and  work  till 
three  o'clock,  for  the  scanty  meal  of  stirabout,  or  piece 


148  ANNALS  OF  THE 

of  bread.  Dr.  Edgar  had  established  an  industrial 
school  among  the  tenantry  of  Samuel  Bourne,  but  w  hen 
I  visited  it  no  other  instruction  had  been  given  but 
knitting  and  sewing.  It  was  at  Samuel  Bourne's  that  I 
met  with  James  Tuke,  whose  faithful  researches,  and 
candid  recitals  of  the  state  of  Erris  and  Conn  aught 
llave  lived  and  will  live,  in  spite  of  all  opposition.  I 
rode  with  him  from  Rosport  to  Ballina,  and  many  a 
poor  suffering  one  received  not  only  a  kind  word,  but  a 
shilling  or  half-crown,  as  we  passed  along.  His  friend- 
ship for  Ireland  overlooked  all  accidental  discrepancies 
in  that  misjudged  people,  and  from  f  ffects  he  went  to 
causes,  and  placed  the  defects  at  the  door  of  the  lawful 
owner.  My  stay  in  the  pretty  town  of  Ballina  was  a 
short  one,  and  again  I  reached  the  dismal  Belmullet. 
Drinking  and  its  sad  concomitants  were  everywhere 
manifest ;  not  among  the  "  vulgar  lower  order,"  but 
the  u  respectable"  class.  The  sad  fate  of  a  Protestant 
curate,  who  was  in  the  asylum,  is  well  known,  as  well 
as  that  of  the  hotel  keeper,  who  died  shortly  after  my 
visit  there. 

A  fresh  curate  had  been  stationed  in  Bellmullct,  and 
his  prudent  sober  course  indicated  good.  Three  miles 
from  the  town  lived  a  single  lady,  who  went  by  the  name 
of  the  Queen  of  Erris,  on  account  of  some  clever  doings 
in  a  court ;  and  one  sunny  morning  I  took  a  walk  to 
her  dwelling  near  the  sea.  A  sight  which  had  never 
before  fallen  to  my  lot  to  witness,  was  here  in  progress. 
Two  well-dressed  men,  mounted  on  fine  horses,  furnished 
■with  pistols,  accompanied  by  a  footman,  passed,  and 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


149 


turned  into  a  miserable  hamlet,  and  instantly  all  was  in 
motion  ;  every  man,  woman,  and  child  who  had  strength 
to  walk  was  out.  Soon  I  perceived  the  footman  driving 
cows  and  sheep  into  the  main  road,  while  the  armed 
gentry  kept  all  opposition  at  bay,  by  showing  that  death 
was  in  their  pistols  if  any  showed  resistance.  It  was  a 
most  affecting  sight.  Some  were  clasping  their  hands, 
dropping  upon  their  knees,  and  earnestly  imploring  the 
good  God  to  save  them  the  last  cow,  calf,  or  sheep,  for 
their  hungry  little  ones ;  some  were  standing  in  mute 
despair,  as  they  saw  their  only  hope  departing,  while 
others  followed  in  mournful  procession,  as  the  cattle 
and  sheep  were  all  gathered  from  every  field  in  the  par- 
ish, and  congregated  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  where  the  brisk 
"  drivers"  had  collected  them,  to  take  them,  in  a  flock 
to  the  town.  My  visit  to  the  Queen  was  postponed.  I 
followed  in  that  procession  ;  a  long  hill  was  before  us, 
the  sun  was  shining  upon  the  clearest  sky,  and  lighted 
up  a  company  which  illy  contrasted  with  that  of  Jacob, 
when  he  went  out  to  meet  his  angry  brother  Esau.  The 
flocks  and  herds  might  be  as  beautiful ;  but  the  warlike 
drivers,  and  ragged,  hungry,  imploring  oppressed  ones 
that  followed,  could  hardly  claim  a  standing  with  Jacob 
and  his  family.  The  hill  was  ascended,  and  the  poor 
people  halted  and  looking  a  sad  adieu  turned  back ;  and 
a  few  exclaimed,  "  We're  lawst,  not  a  ha'porth  have 
the  blackguards  left  to  a  divil  of  us,"  others  spoke  not, 
and  a  few  were  weeping.  Death  must  now  be  their 
destiny. 

All  returned  but  one  boy,  whose  age  was  about  four- 


150 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


tccn  years ;  he  stood  as  if  in  a  struggle  of  feeling,  till 
the  people  had  gone  from  his  sight,  and  the  u  drivers" 
were  descending  the  hill  on  the  other  side.  Instantly 
he  rushed  between  the  u  drivers"  and  flock,  and  before 
the  mouth  of  these  loaded  pistols  he  ran  among  the  cat- 
tle, screaming,  and  put  the  whole  flock  in  confusion, 
running  hither  and  thither,  the  astonished  "  drivers" 
threatening  death.  The  boy  heeding  nothing  but  the 
main  point,  scattered  and  routed  the  whole  flock  ;  the 
people  heard  the  noise  and  ran,  the  "drivers,"  whether 
in  astonishment,  or  whether  willing  to  show  lenity,  (let 
their  own  hearts  judge,)  rode  away,  the  inhabitants  ex- 
ulted, and  the  flock  were  soon  in  the  inclosures  of  the 
owners.  But  that  noble-minded  heroic  boy  was  the 
wonder ;  facing  danger  alone,  and  saving  for  a  whole 
parish  what  a  whole  parish  had  not  dared  to  attempt ! 
His  name  should  never  be  forgotten,  and  a  pension  for 
life  is  his  due. 

A  letter  is  here  inserted,  which  will  show  faintly  the 
manner  of  distributing  donations,  and  the  habits  of  the 
people. 

"  Belmullet,  October  30th,  1847. 
"  My  Dear  Sir  : — Please  prepare  yourself.  I  am 
about  applying  some  of  those  "  offensive  points"  in  my 
character,  which  I  so  eminently  possess ;  and  which  may 
require  not  only  your  true  charity,  but  untiring  patience, 
to  plod  through.  I  have  been  riding  and  walking 
through  desolate  Erris,  and  in  worse  than  despair,  if 
possible,  have  sat  down,  asking,  What  am  I  to.  do  1 
What  can  I  do? 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


151 


u  Every  effort  of  the  friends  of  Ireland  is  baffled  by 
the  demoralizing  effects  that  feeding  a  starving  peasan 
try  without  labor  has  produced.  And  now  the  sound 
again  is  echoing  and  re-echoing,  that  on  the  1st  of  No- 
vember, the  boilers  upon  mountain  and  in  glen  would  be 
foaming  and  splashing  with  Indian  meal ;  while  the  va- 
rious idlers  shall  have  nothing  to  do  but  fight  their  way 
over  necks  of  old  women  and  starved  children,  missiles 
of  policemen,  elbows  and  fists  of  aspirants,  to  secure  the 
lucky  hodge-podge  into  can  and  noggin,  pot  and  bucket ; 
and  trail  over  ditch  and  through  bog,  from  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  to  five,  as  his  hap  may  be  ;  then  to  sit  down  in 
his  mud-built  cabin,  sup  and  gulp  down  the  boon,  lie 
down  upon  his  straw  till  the  hour  of  nine  or  ten  will 
again  summon  him  to  the  next  warlike  encounter. 

"  Indeed,  sir,  your  friend  who  was  last  here  said  he 
could  think  of  nothing  better,  than  to  take  up  a  turf 
cabin  with  its  inmates  and  appurtenances,  and  set  it 
down  in  England.  I  can  outdo  him  in  invention.  I 
would  take  some  half-dozen  of  your  George  Thompsons 
— if  so  many  truly  independent  members  you  have — and 
would  transport  them  through  the  waste  lands  of  Erris, 
and  seat  them  snugly  around  a  boiler  under  full  play. 
Thev  should  sit  unobserved,  and  see  the  whole  working 
of  the  machinery.  The  array  of  rags — each  equipped 
with  his  canteen  to  hold  his  precious  gift,  should  ap- 
proach ;  the  ghastly  features,  staring  eyes,  bony  fingers, 
slender  legs  ;  in  fact,  ghosts  and  hobgoblins,  hags  and 
imps,  should  draw  near,  the  fighting  and  tearing,  tum- 
bling and  scratching  should  commence  and  go  on,  till  the 


152 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


boiler  was  emptied,  and  these  fac  similes  of  fighting 
dogs,  tigers,  and  wolves,  had  well  cleared  the  premises. 
I  then  would  invite  them  to  a  seat  in  Samuel  Stock's, 
Samuel  Bourne's,  and  James  O'Donnell's  parlors. 
Then  let.  them  patiently  watch  from  ten  to  twelve,  from 
twelve  to  two,  and  perchance  from  two  till  four,  and 
witness  the  intensity  of  action  in  making  out  lines,  and 
diagrams,  and  figures,  to  show  in  plain  black  and  white 
to  government  that  Pat  Flannagan,  Samuel  Murphy, 
Biddy  Aigin,  and  Molly  Sullivan,  had  each  his  and  her 
pound  of  meal  made  into  a  stirabout,  on  the  3d  of  No- 
vember, Anno  Domini  1847.  And  let  it  be  understood 
that  these  Pat  Flannagans,  Aigins,  and  Murphys  had 
only  to  spend  the  day  in  the  terrific  contests  before  de- 
scribed, to  earn  this  pound  of  meal,  and  then  betake 
themselves  to  mountains  and  dens,  turf  hovels,  and  mud 
hovels,  to  crawl  in,  and  then  and  there  4  sup  up'  this 
life-giving,  life-inspiring  stimulus.  They  should  further 
be  told  that  these  Stocks,  Bournes,  O'Donnels,  &c.  had 
the  privilege  of  handing  over  these  nightly  made  out 
documents  to  officers,  paid  from  six  to  ten,  from  ten  to 
twenty  shillings  per  clay,  that  they  might  have  the 
promise  of  a  six  months'  nightly  campaign,  should  pa- 
pers be  found  to  be  true  and  legible,  as  aforetime. 

"  This  is  but  a  short  preface  to  the  story ;  my  heart 
sickens  at  looking  over  the  utter  wasting  of  all  that  was 
once  cheerful,  interesting,  and  kind  in  these  peasantry. 
Hunger  and  idleness  have  left  them  a  prey  to  every  im- 
morality ;  and  if  they  do  not  soon  practice  every  vice 
attendant  on  such  a  state  of  things,  it  will  be  because 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


153 


they  have  not  the  power.  Many  are  now  maniacs,  some 
desperate,  and  some  idiots.  Human  nature  is  coming 
forth  in  every  deformity  that  she  can  put  on,  while  in 
the  flesh  ;  and  should  I  stay  in  Ireland  six  months  longer, 
I  shall  not  be  astonished  at  seeing  any  deeds  of  wicked- 
ness performed,  even  by  those  who  one  year  ago  might 
apparently  have  been  as  free  from  guilt  as  any  among 
us.  I  have  not  been  able  yet,  with  all  my  republican 
training,  to  lose  the  old-school  principle  of  man's  total 
lost  state.  I  have  never  yet  seen  him  without  the  re- 
straints of  custom  or  religion  anything  but  a  demon  in 
embryo,  if  not  in  full  maturity  ;  doing  not  only  what  he 
can,  but  sighing  and  longing  to  do  more.  The  flood- 
gates in  Ireland  are  certainly  set  open,  and  the  torrent 
has  already  made  fearful  ravages. 

"  From  Clare  and  Tipperary  what  do  we  hear'?  One 
post  after  another  runs  to  tell  that  not  only  deeds  of 
darkness  are  done,  but  deeds  of  daylight  desperation,  * 
sufficient  to  startle  the  firmest.  What  Moses  shall 
stand  up  to  plead  with  God  1  What  Phineas  shall  rush 
in  to  stay  the  plague  1  Where  are  your  men  of  moral, 
yes,  of  spiritual  might  7  You  have  them ;  then  bring 
them  out !  I  look  across  that  narrow  channel.  I  see 
the  graves  of  martyrs.  I  see  the  graves  of  men  whose 
daring  minds  stood  forth  in  all  the  majesty  of  greatness, 
to  speak  for  truth  and  justice ;  and  though  they  may 
long  since  have  taken  flight,  where  are  their  mantles  ? 
Where  is  your  George  Thompson?  He  who  shook  the 
United  States  from  Maine  to  Georgia,  in  pleading  long 

and  loud  for  the  down-trodden  black  man  ?  Can  he  not, 
7* 


154 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


will  he  not  lift"  his  voice  for  poor  Ireland  ?  She  who 
stands  shivering,  sinking  on  the  Isthmus,  between  two 
worlds,  apparently  not  fit  for  either.  Will  he  not  reach 
forth  a  kindly  hand,  and  try  to  snatch  this  once  inter- 
esting and  lovely,  though  now  forlorn  and  forsaken  crea- 
ture, from  her  fearful  position?  Must  she,  shall  she 
die  1  Will  proud  England  lose  so  bright  a  gem  as  Ire- 
land might  have  been  in  her  crown  1  Will  she  lose  her ; 
when  the  distaff,  and  the  spade,  the  plow  and  the  fish- 
ing net,  might  again  make  her  mountains  and  her  val- 
leys rejoice  I — When  the  song  of  the  husbandman  and 
the  laugh  of  the  milkmaid,  might  make  her  green  isle 
the  home  of  thousands,  who  are  now  sinking  and  dying 
in  wasting  despair. 

"  Do  you  say  she  is  intriguing — she  is  indolent  and 
treacherous  %  Try  her  once  more ;  put  instruments  of 
working  warfare  into  her  hands  ;  hold  up  the  soul-stir- 
ring stimulus  of  remuneration  to  her ;  give  her  no  time 
for  meditating  plunder  and  bloodshed  ;  give  her  no  in- 
ducement to  be  reckless  of  a  life  that  exists  only  to  suf- 
fer. Feed  her  not  in  idleness,  nor  taunt  her  with  her 
nakedness  and  poverty,  till  her  wasted,  palsied  limbs 
have  been  washed  and  clothed — till  her  empty  stomach 
has  been  filled,  and  filled  too  with  food  of  her  own  earn- 
ing, when  she  shall  have  strength  to  do  it.  Give  her  a 
little  spot  on  the  loved  isle  she  can  call  her  own,  where 
she  can  \  sit  under  her  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  and  none 
to  make  her  afraid,'  and  force  her  not  to  flee  to  a  distant 
clime  to  purchase  that  bread  that  would  be  sweeter  on 
her  own  native  soil.    Do  you  say  you  cannot  feed  and 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


155 


pay  four  millions  of  these  your  subjects  1  Then  call  on 
your  transatlantic  sister  to  give  you  food  for  them.  The 
earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the  fullness  thereof ;  and  though 
she  has  a  right  to  say  she  will  not  send  Ireland  food  to 
keep  them  strong  in  idleness,  she  has  no  right  to  say 
she  will  not  send  them  food  to  give  them  strength  for 
labor.  She  has  not  a  heart  to  say  it ;  foul  as  her  hands 
may  be  with  slavery,  yet  she  will  feed  the  hungry  with 
a  cheerful  hand.  If  she  has  not  done  her  duty  there  is 
room  for  repentance,  yes,  effectual  repentance.  Her 
fields,  the  past  season,  have  been  waving  with  rich  corn, 
and  her  storehouses  are  filling  with  the  golden  harvest. 
You  have  given  her  gold  in  profusion,  for  the  produce 
of  her  soil.  The  blast  of  the  potatoe  has  been  to  her 
the  blossoming  and  ripening  of  her  pastures — her  wav- 
ing fields  of  pulse  and  corn.  The  husbandman  has  been 
stimulated  to  plow  up  fresh  lands,  so  that  he  might 
fill  his  granaries  abundantly  with  the  rich  harvest,  be- 
cause free  trade  has  opened  your  ports,  and  you  will 
demand  more  of  his  corn  ;  and  why  should  he  not  send 
over  a  few  sheaves,  as  a  thank-offering  to  God,  for  all 
this  bounty  7  America  will  do  it  if  required  ;  but  an 
inquiry  has  come  across  the  ocean  :  Is  it  right  to  feed 
a  country  to  encourage  idleness — will  not  the  evil  be 
much  greater  than  the  good  ?  Answer,  you  who  are 
statesmen — you  who  are  Christians  ;  answer,  you  who 
can.  Look  at  the  peasantry  of  Ireland  three  years  ago, 
and  look  at  them  now  !  Even  their  enemies  must  ac- 
knowledge that  they  are  a  tractable  race,  to  have  de- 
veloped so  much  intrigue  and  cunning  under  the  train- 


156 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


ing  of  the  last  two  years.  Shall  I  scold,  shall  I  preach, 
shall  I  entreat  any  more  ?  What  is  woman's  legislating 
amid  the  din  of  so  many  wise  magicians,  soothsayers, 
and  astrologers,  as  have  set  up  for  Ireland  the  last  two 
years.  Prophets  and  priests  have  so  far  failed  ;  but 
certainly  there  must  be  a  true  chord  to  strike  some- 
where ;  for  what  is  now  wrong,  when  traced  to  its  source, 
may  disclose  the  hidden  cause  of  the  evil,  and  put  the 
willing  investigator  into  a  position  to  work  an  amend- 
ment. 

"  You,  sir,  who  know  Erris,  tell,  if  you  can,  how  the 
landlords  can  support  the  poor  by  taxation,  to  give  them 
food,  when  the  few  resident  landlords  are  nothing,  and 
worse  than  nothing,  for  they  are  paupers  in  the  full 
sense  of  the  word.  What  can  Samuel  Bourne,  James 
O'Donncll,  and  such  like  men  do  in  their  present  posi- 
tion 1  If  they  have  done  wrong,  and  do  it  no  more,  the 
torrent  is  so  strong  that  they  cannot  withstand  it.  I 
must,  and  will  plead,  though  I  plead  in  vain,  that  some- 
thing may  be  done  to  give  them  work.  I  have  just  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  curate  of  Bingham's  Town,  say- 
ing that  he  could  set  all  his  poor  parish,  both  the  wo- 
men and  children,  to  work,  and  find  a  market  for  their 
knitting  and  cloth,  if  he  could  command  a  few  pounds 
to  purchase  the  materials.  He  is  young  and  indefati- 
gable, kind-hearted  and  poor,  and  no  proselyte.  Mrs. 
Stock  has  done  well  in  her  industrial  department.  The 
Hon.  William  Butler  has  purchased  cloth  of  her,  for  a 
coat  to  wear  himself,  which  the  poor  women  spun,  and 
gave  a  good  price  for  it. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


157 


"  I  pray  you,  sir,  if  this  malignant  letter  do  not  terrify 
you,  write  and  say  what  must  be  done. 

"  A.  Nicholson." 

A  week  had  I  been  watching  a  passage  to  the  Sound, 
and  November  9th,  1847,  at  six  o'clock  on  Monday 
morning,  I  stepped  into  a  filthy  looking  boat,  with  filthy 
looking  men  jabbering  Irish,  and  sat  down  on  a  pile  of 
wet  straw,  for  the  rain  and  sea  were  still  pouring  and 
splashing  upon  us  ;  and  there  soaked  and  drenched, 
amid  rain,  wave  and  tempest,  I  sat  till  nearly  sunset, 
when  the  storm  ceased,  the  clouds  made  an  opening  for 
the  sun,  the  air  became  sultry,  and  the  sea  like  a  molten 
looking-glass.  "  How  long  have  you  sailed  this  boat 
around  this  fearful  coast  tM  the  captain  was  asked. 
"  Twelve  years,  and  not  an  accident  has  once  happened 
to  me."  The  boatmen  were  obliged  to  row  us  in  with 
oars,  for  not  a  motion  was  upon  the  sea,  nor  a  breeze  in 
the  air.    Strange  and  sudden  change  ! 

The  poor  fishermen  at  the  Sound  had  loosened  their 
boats  from  the  fastenings,  and  gone  out  with  their  nets 
upon  the  calm  waters. 

My  wet  clothes  were  not  adjusted,  when  in  awful 
majesty  the  Almighty  seemed  riding  upon  the  whirlwind 
and  storm ;  the  rushing  of  the  tempest  lashed  the  af- 
frighted sea  to  a  fury,  the  waves  in  fearful  roar  dashed 
over  the  lofty  pier,  the  blackened  clouds  were  tossing 
and  rolling  like  a  scroll  together,  and  the  earth  seemed 
moved  as  if  at  the  coming  of  Christ.  I  actually  sat 
down  in  a  window  that  overlooked  the  Sound,  and  wait- 


158 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


cd  in  glad  suspense  the  approach  of  that  cloud  which 
should  bear  the  chariot  wheels  of  the  Savior  to  judg- 
ment ;  slates  were  hurled  from  the  roof — windows  were 
broken — doors  burst  open,  and  the  confused  crash  so 
astonished  all  that  none  attempted  to  speak.  So  black 
were  the  clouds,  that  night  scarcely  was  perceived,  and 
had  the  "  graves  opened,"  and  the  "  sea  given  up  her 
dead,"  the  living  would  not  have  known  it,  for  the 
breath  of  the  Almighty  had  not  kindled  the  grand  con- 
flagration ;  till  past  midnight  the  wind  and  the  sea  kept 
up  the  sublime  roaring. 

But  where  were  the  poor  fishermen  and  the  captain 
who  had  never  met  an  accident  1  He  was  wrecked.  The 
morning  dawned,  the  sun  looked  out  upon  a  molten  sea 
again,  whose  placid  face  seemed  to  say,  "  I  am  satis- 
fied." But  the  stillness  of  the  sea  wTas  soon  broken  by 
the  wail  of  widows  and  orphans  who  were  lamenting  in 
loud  cries  the  loss  of  those  they  loved.  Nineteen  of 
these  fishermen,  the  "  stoutest  and  best,"  said  Mr. 
Savage,  are  swallowed  in  the  deep.  Honest  and  indus- 
trious, they  had  stood  waiting  in  fearful  suspense,  in 
hunger,  and  looking  in  despair  upon  the  tumultuous 
waves  that  morning,  saying,  "  If  the  good  God  don't 
still  the  storm  we're  all  destrawed."  He  had  stilled  it, 
and  nineteen  wTere  lost.  Three  among  the  hapless  crew 
struggled  with  the  fearful  tempest,  and  reached  the  shore, 
crawled  up  the  cliffs,  and  were  found  upon  the  moun- 
tains dead,  on  the  way  to  their  cabins. 

On  the  28th  of  November,  a  fisherman's  widow  called 
in,  who  had  been  twenty  miles,  to  "  prove,"  as  she  said, 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


159 


her  husband,  -who  had  been  washed  ashore,  and  buried 
without  a  coffin  ;  she  bought  a  white  coffin  and  took  it 
to  the  spot  with  her  own  hands,  she  dug  him  from  his 
grave,  and  u  proved*'  him  by  a  leather  button  she  had 
sewed  upon  some  part  of  his  clothes. 

December  3d. — Another  night  of  darkness  and  ter- 
rible storm.  The  lightning  threw  a  blue  luster  upon 
everything, — the  affrighted  daughters  turned  pale, — the 
mother  sat  in  a  dark  corner,  now  and  then  giving  a  stifled 
groan, — shrinking  before  the  voice  of  Jehovah  when  he 
thundered  in  the  heavens.  The  next  morning  while  the 
tempest  was  still  high,  a  sorrowing  old  mother  and  young 
wife  had  come,  bearing  on  a  cart  the  body  of  the  son 
who  was  drowned  on  the  9th.  The  white  coffin  besmear- 
ed with  tar  stood  upon  the  pier ;  the  mother,  wife,  and 
sisters  were  beside  it,  mingling  their  loud  lamentations 
with  the  storm.  "  He  was  as  fine  a  young  lad  as  ever 
put  the  oar  across  the  curragh,  and  had  the  larnin*  in- 
tirely,'*  said  the  old  mother. 

The  scenes  on  this  coast  that  dreadful  winter,  are 
scenes  of  awful  remembrance,  and  one  bright  spot  alone 
cheered  the  sadness.  It  had  been  the  practice  for  the 
mother  and  daughters  to  assemble  in  a  retired  room 
in  the  evening  for  reading  the  scriptures  and  prayer. 
One  evening  a  daughter  of  the  family  came  from  the 
kitchen  with  the  strange  glad  message,  that  one  of  the 
laboring  men  had  requested  that  the  lady  should,  ("  if 
it  wouldn't  be  too  much,*')  come  down  to  the  kitchen 
and  read  to  them  there.  Joyfully  we  all  went,  and  found 
there  a  company  of  more  than  twenty,  all  quietly  seated 


160 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


on  forms  ;  the  kitchen  in  the  best  order,  and  a  bright 
fire  upon  the  hearth.  They  all  rose  as  we  entered,  and 
one  said,  "  We  wouldn't  be  bold,  lady,  but  may  be  ye 
wouldn't  refuse  to  raid  a  little  to  us."  Testaments  were 
procured — candles  lighted — and  these  simple-hearted 
rustics  in  their  turn  read  with  us,  making  comments  as 
we  passed,  till  the  scene  from  the  interesting  became 
affecting.  We  prayed  together,  and  when  we  rose  from 
our  knees,  one  said,  u  We  never  haird  so  much  of  the 
good  Christ  before."  They  all  thanked  me,  and  gave 
me  hearty  blessings,  and  said  good  night,  calling  after 
me,  and  "  may  the  good  God  give  ye  the  long  life,  and 
happy  death."  Every  night,  when  it  was  possible  to  do 
so,  the  kitchen  was  put  in  order,  and  a  messenger  sent 
to  ask  if  the  lady  was  ready.  I  saw  one  of  these  men 
twenty  miles  from  there,  standing  by  his  cart,,  when  he 
spake  (for  I  did  not  know  him,)  "  God  save  ye,  lady, 
we're  lonesome  without  ye  entirely,  we  don't  have  the 
raidin',  and  maybe  ye'll  come  again." 

I  passed  the  Christmas  and  New  Year's-day  in  Achill, 
in  the  colony  of  Mr.  Nangle,  and  to  the  honor  of  the 
inhabitants  would  say,  they  did  not  send  me  to  Molly 
Vesey's  to  lodge  ;  but  more  than  one  family  offered  to 
entertain  me.  Mr.  Nangle  I  heard  preach  again,  and 
as  he  figured  considerably  in  the  first  volume  of  my 
work,  it  may  be  said  here  that  he  refused  any  reconcili- 
ation, did  not  speak  though  a  good  opportunity  present- 
ed ;  and  when  he  was  expostulated  with  by  a  superin- 
tendent of  his  schools,  who  informed  him  that  I  had 
visited  numbers  of  them,  and  put  clothes  upon  some  of 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


161 


the  most  destitute,  he  coolly  replied,  "  If  she  can  do  any 
good  I  am  glad  of  it." 

He  had  eleven  schools  scattered  through  that  region, 
reading  the  scriptures,  and  learning  Irish ;  but  all 
through  these  parts  might  be  seen  the  fallacy  of  dis- 
tributing a  little  over  a  great  surface.  The  scanty 
allowance  given  to  children  once  a  day,  and  much  of 
this  bad  food,  kept  them  in  lingering  want,  and  many 
died  at  last.  So  with  workmen.  Mr.  Nangle  had 
many  men  working  in  his  bogs,  near  Mr.  Savage,  and  so 
scantily  were  they  paid — sometimes  but  three-pence  and 
three-pence-halfpenny  a  day — that  some  at  least  would 
have  died  but  for  the  charity  of  Mrs.  Savage.  These 
men  had  families  to  feed,  and  must  work  till  Saturday, 
then  go  nine  miles  into  the  colony  to  procure  the  Indian 
meal  for  the  five  days'  work.  This  he  truly  called  giv- 
ing his  men  "  employ." 

Another  sad  evil  prevalent  in  nearly  all  the  relief- 
shops  was,  damaged  Indian  meal.  And  here  without 
any  personality,  leaving  the  application  where  it  belongs, 
having  a  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  this  article,  it  is 
placed  on  record,  that  the  unground  com  that  was  sent 
from  America,  and  bought  by  the  Government  of  Eng- 
land, and  carried  round  the  coast  and  then  ground  in 
the  mills,  which  did  not  take  off  the  hull,  much  of  it 
having  been  damaged  on  the  water,  became  wholly  unfit 
for  use,  and  was  a  most  dangerous  article  for  any  stom- 
ach. Many  of  the  shops  I  found  where  this  material 
was  foaming  and  sputtering  in  kettles  over  the  fire,  as 
if  a  handful  of  soda  had  been  flung  in,  and  sending 


162 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


forth  an  odor  really  unpleasant ;  and  when  any  expostu- 
lation was  made,  the  answer  was,  "  They're  quite  glad 
to  get  it,"  or,  "  We  use  such  as  is  put  into  our  hands 
— the  government  must  see  to  that."  Such  meal,  a 
good  American  farmer  would  not  give  to  his  swine  un- 
less for  physic,  and  when  the  half-starved  poor,  who 
had  been  kept  all  their  life  on  potatoes,  took  this  sour, 
mouldy,  harsh  food,  dysentery  must  be  the  result. 
One  of  the  Dublin  Relief  Committee  stated,  that  the 
government  had  kindly  offered  to  save  them  the  trouble 
of  carriage  by  taking  the  American  donations,  as  they 
arrived,  and  giving  them  an  equivalent  of  that  which 
was  already  on  the  coast,  which  they  had  purchased  : 
this  equivalent  was  the  corn  above-mentioned,  and  the 
American  donations  were  in  the  best  possible  order, 
and  the  very  article  to  which  the  poor  were  entitled. 

Let  the  policemen  speak  if  they  will  speak,  and  tes- 
tify, if  many  an  injured  ton  of  meal  has  not  been 
flung  into  the  sea  in  the  night,  from  ports  in  Ireland, 
which  was  sent  for  the  poor,  and  by  neglect  spoiled, 
while  the  objects  for  whom  it  was  intended  died  without 
relief.  The  novel  prudence,  too,  which  prevailed 
nearly  everywhere,  was  keeping  the  provisions  for  next 
week  while  the  people  were  dying  this,  lest  they  should 
come  short  of  funds,  to  buy  more,  or  no  more  would 
be  given  them. 

The  author  of  the  Irish  Crisis,  January,  1848,  gives 
a  clear  statement  of  many  things  relating  to  Grants, 
Public  Works,  and  many  other  valuable  statistics,  and 
upon  the  whole  it  presents  a  fair  picture  for  future 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


163 


generations  to  read  of  the  nice  management  and  kindly 
feelings  of  all  parties  ;  and  "  that  among  upward  of 
two  thousand  local  officers  to  whom  advances  were 
made  under  this  act,there  is  not  one  to  which,  so  far  as 
Government  is  informed,  any  suspicion  of  embezzlement 
attaches."  It  further  states  that  the  fasts  set  apart 
in  London  were  kept  with  great  solemnity,  and  that 
never  in  that  city  was  there  a  winter  of  so  little  gayety. 
But  he  has  not  told  posterity,  and  probably  he  did  not 
know,  that  the  winters  of  1847  and  1848  in  Dublin 
were  winters  of  great  hilarity  among  the  gentry.  The 
latter  season,  particularly,  seemed  to  be  a  kind  of  jubi- 
lee for  "  songs  and  dances."  The  Queen  appointed 
fasts  on  both  these  winters,  the  people  went  to  church, 
and  said  they  had  "  all  gone  astray  like  lost  sheep,  and 
there  was  no  soundness  in  them,"  and  some  who  heard 
believed  that  this  was  all  true  ;  but  it  may  be  scrupled 
whether  many  priests  "  wept  between  the  porch  and 
the  altar,"  or  that  many  Jeremiahs'  eyes  ran  down  with 
water,  "  for  the  slain  of  the  daughters  of  the  people." 
That  the  people  of  England  felt  more  deeply,  and 
acted  more  consistently  than  did  the  people  of  Ireland, 
cannot  be  disputed.  Ireland  felt  when  her  peace  was 
disturbed  and  her  ease  was  molested,  and  she  cried 
loudly  for  help  in  this  w  God's  famine,"  as  she  im- 
piously called  it ;  but  ate  her  good  dinners  and  drank 
her  good  wine,  as  long  as  she  could  find  means  to  do 
so — famine  or  no  famine  ;  her  landlords  strained  for 
the  last  penny  of  rent,  and  sent  their  tenants  houseless 
into  the  storm  when  they  could  pay  no  longer. 


164 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


This,  her  sirs,  her  lords,  and  her  esquires  did. 
"No  suspicion  of  embezzlement  attached!"  when  a 
company  of  more  than  two  thousand  were  intrusted 
with  money  at  discretion,  they  must  indeed  have  been 
a  rare  lump  of  honesty  if  some  few  glasses  of  wine  had 
not  been  taken  out  of  it,  to  drink  the  Queen's  health 
on  their  days  of  festivals,  or  a  pound  now  and  then  to 
pay  off  some  vexatious  debt,  &c.  And  who  shall  tell 
Government  of  that?  shall  the  United  Fraternity 
themselves  do  it  ? — shall  the  poor,  who  are  powerless 
and  unheeded,  tell  it?  or  shall  "  Common  Fame,"  that 
random  talking  tell-tale,  fly  through  the  kingdom,  and 
declare  that  Mr.  ,  "  head  and  ears  in  debt,"  sud- 
denly came  out  "  clear  as  a  horn,"  that  Mr.  Some- 
body was  fitting  up  his  house,  and  where  did  he  get  his 
money?  and  that  the  cattle  and  horses  of  Farmer 
G  were  getting  fat  and  thriving  astonishingly,  &c. 

It  was  my  fortune  to  be  placed  in  a  position  among 
all  classes,  acting  isolated  as  I  did,  to  see  the  inner 
court  of  some  of  these  temples — (not  of  the  Commit- 
tees), with  these  my  business  ended  when  at  Dublin. 
But  I  had  boxes  of  clothing,  and  am  obliged  to  ac- 
knowledge what  common  report  says  here,  that  the 
people  of  the  higher  classes  in  general  showed  a  mean- 
ness bordering  on  dishonesty.  When  they  saw  a 
goodly  garment,  they  not  only  appeared  to  covet,  but 
they  actually  bantered,  as  though  in  a  shop  of  second- 
hand articles,  to  get  it  as  cheap  as  possible ;  and  most, 
if  not  all  of  such,  would  have  taken  these  articles  with- 
out any  equivalent,  though  they  knew  they  were  the 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


165 


property  of  the  poor.  Instead  of  saying,  "  These  gar- 
ments are  not  fit  for  the  cabin  people,  I  will  pay  the 
full  worth  and  let  them  have  something  that  will  do 
them  good,"  they  managed  most  adroitly  to  secure 
them  for  the  smallest  amount.  These  were  people  too 
who  were  not  in  want.  The  poor  were  shamefully  de- 
frauded, where  they  had  no  redress  and  none  to  lift  the 
voice  in  their  favor.  Among  the  suffering  it  was  not 
so  ;  whenever  I  visited  a  neighborhood  or  a  school,  and 
clothed  a  naked  child,  or  assisted  a  destitute  family, 
those  who  were  not  relieved,  never,  in  my  presence  or 
hearing,  manifested  the  least  jealousy,  but  on  the  con- 
trary, blessed  God  that  He  had  sent  relief  to  any  one. 
This  so  affected  me,  in  schools  where  I  went,  that  a 
garment  for  a  naked  child  was  not  presented  in  the 
school-room  ;  I  could  not  well  endure  the  ghastly  smile 
of  approbation  that  some  child  sitting  near  would  give, 
who  was  nearly  as  destitute  as  the  one  that  had  been 
clothed.  In  one  of  Mr.  Nangle's  schools  the  teacher 
was  requested  to  select  the  children  most  in  want,  and 
let  me  know,  that  I  need  not  go  into  the  room  with  new 
garments  for  a  part,  to  the  exclusion  of  others.  These 
little  suffering  ones  had  not  yet  learnt  to  covet  or  envy 
— always  oppressed,  they  bowed  their  necks  patiently 
to  the  yoke. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


"  There  is  no  god>  the  oppressors  say, 
To  mete  us  out  chastisement." 

POOR-HOUSES,  TURNIPS,   AND   BLACK  BREAD. 

These  splendid  monuments  of  Ireland's  poverty 
number  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  thirty,  and  some 
contain  a  thousand,  and  some  two  thousand,  and  in 
cases  of  emergency  they  can  heap  a  few  hundreds 
more.  Before  the  famine  they  were  many  of  them 
quite  interesting  objects  for  a  stranger  to  visit,  gener- 
ally kept  clean,  not  crowded,  and  the  food  sufficient. 
But  when  famine  advanced,  when  funds  decreased, 
when  the  doors  were  besieged  by  imploring  applicants, 
who  wanted  a  place  to  die,  that  they  might  be  buried 
in  a  coffin,  they  were  little  else  than  charnel  houses, 
while  the  living,  shivering  skeletons  that  squatted  upoD 
the  floors,  or  stood  with  arms  folded  against  the  wall, 
half-clad,  with  hair  uncombed,  hands  and  face  unwashed, 
added  a  horror  if  not  terror  to  the  sight.  Westport 
Union  had  long  been  celebrated  for  its  management, 
its  want  of  comfort,  in  fire,  food,  lodging,  and  room  ; 
but  stay  and  die,  or  go  out  and  die,  was  the  choice. 
Making  suitable  allowances  for  a  rainy  day — the  house 
undergoing  some  changes  when  I  visited  it — there  then 


y 


THE  FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


167 


appeared  little  capital  left  for  comfort,  had  the  day 
been  sunny,  and  the  house  without  any  unusual  up- 
turnings.  The  "  jailer  Indian,"  here,  was  the  dread- 
ful thing  that  they  told  me,  "  swells  us  and  takes  the 
life  of  us and  as  it  was  there  cooked,  it  may  be 
scrupled  whether  any  officer  in  the  establishment  would 
select  it  for  his  food,  though  he  assured  the  inmates 
"  he  could  eat  it,  and  it  was  quite  good  enough  for  a 
king."  These  officers  and  guardians,  many  of  them, 
were  men  who  had  lived  in  ease,  never  accustomed  to 
industry  or  self-denial,  having  the  poor  as  vassals  under 
them  ;  and  when  the  potato  blight  took  away  all  the 
means  of  getting  rent,  what  with  the  increased  taxa- 
tions and  the  drainings  by  a  troop  of  beggars  at  the 
door,  they  found  themselves  approaching  a  difficult 
crisis,  and  to  prop  up  every  tottering  wall  new  expedi- 
ents must  be  tried.  Many  of  them  sought  posts  of 
office  under  government,  and  were  placed  in  the  work- 
houses to  superintend  funds  and  food ;  and  it  will  not 
be  slander  to  say,  that  the  ears  of  government  have  not 
been  so  fortunate  with  regard  to  the  "  slip-shod  99  hon- 
esty of  some  of  these  gentry,  as  in  the  two  thousand 
which  the  writer  of  the  Crisis  mentions. 

When  the  poor  complained,  they  were  told  that 
funds  were  low,  and  stinted  allowances  must  be  dealt 
out.  Nor  did  the  mischief  end  here  ;  in  proportion  as 
the  houses  were  crowded  within,  so  were  the  purses 
drained  without ;  and  beside,  in  proportion  to  the  pur- 
loining of  funds,  so  was  the  stinting  of  food  and  the 
extra  drains  upon  the  struggling  tradesman  and  farmer. 


1G8 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


An  observer,  who  had  no  interest  in  the  nation  but 
philanthropy,  going  over  Ireland,  after  traveling  many 
a  weary  mile  over  bog  and  waste,  where  nothing 
but  a  scattering  hamlet  of  loose  stone,  mud,  or  turf 
greets  him,  when  he  suddenly  turns  some  corner,  or 
ascends  some  hill,  and  sees  in  the  distance,  upon  a 
pleasant  elevation,  a  building  of  vast  dimensions,  taste- 
ful in  architecture,  surrounded  with  walls,  like  the 
castle  or  mansion  of  some  lord,  if  he  knew  not  Ireland's 
history,  must  suppose  that  some  chief  held  his  proud 
dominion  over  the  surrounding  country,  and  that  his 
power  must  be  so  absolute  that  life  and  death  hung  on 
his  lip  ;  and  should  he  enter  the  gate,  and  find  about 
its  walls  a  company  of  ragged  and  tattered  beings  of  all 
ages,  from  the  man  of  gray  hairs  to  the  lad  in  his 
teens,  sitting  upon  the  ground,  breaking  stones  with 
"  might  and  main,"  and  piling  them  in  heaps — should 
he  proceed  to  a  contiguous  yard,  if  the  day  be  not 
rainy,  and  find  some  hundreds  of  the  "weaker  vessels," 
standing  in  groups  or  squatting  upon  their  heels,  with 
naked  arms  and  feet — should  he  go  over  the  long  halls, 
and  in  some  inclosure  find  a  group  of  pale  sickly-look- 
ing children  cowering  about  a  vast  iron  guard,  to  keep 
the  scanty  fire  that  might  be  struggling  for  life  in  the 
grate  from  doing  harm — should  he  stop  at  the  dinner 
hour,  and  see  these  hundreds,  yes,  thousands,  march- 
ing in  file  to  the  tables,  where  was  spread  the  yellow 
"  stirabout,"  in  tins  and  pans,  measured  and  meted  by 
ounces  and  pounds,  suited  to  age  and  condition — and 
should  he  tarry  till  twilight  drew  her  curtain,  and  see, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


169 


in  due  order,  these  men,  women,  and  children  led  to 
their  stalls  for  the  night,  where  are  pallets  of  straw,  in 
long  rooms  (they  are  sorted  and  ranged  according  to 
sex)  to  lie  down  together,  with  neither  light  of  the  sun, 
moon,  or  candle,  till  the  morning  dawn,  and  call  them 
again  to  their  gruel  or  stirabout,  to  resume  afresh  the 
routine  of  the  preceding  day — would  not  this  unin- 
formed stranger  find  all  his  opinions  confirmed,  that 
this  must  be  the  property  of  a  monarch,  who  has  gath- 
ered these  hetereogeneous  nondescripts  from  the  pirates, 
highway  robbers,,  and  pickpockets  of  his  subjects,  and 
had  inclosed  them  here,  awaiting  the  "  fit  out,"  for 
transportation  ! 

But  listen  !  This  honest  inquirer  is  aroused  by  be- 
ing kindly  informed  that  this  great  mammoth  estab- 
lishment, with  all  its  complicated  paraphernalia  of 
boilers,  soup-pots,  tins,  pans,  stools,  forms,  tables,  and 
pallets,  together  with  heavy-paid  overseers,  officers, 
matrons,  and  cooks,  are  all  the  work  of  Christian  be- 
nevolence !  and  that  the  building  itself  cost  more  than 
would  a  comfortable  cottage  and  plot  of  ground  suf- 
ficient to  give  each  of  the  families  here  enclosed  a  good 
support.  And  further,  so  unbounded  is  the  owner's 
benevolence,  that  over  the  Green  Isle  are  scattered  one 
hundred  and  twenty-nine  more  like  palaces  !  rearing 
their  proud  turrefs  to  the  skies,  furnished  within  with 
like  apparatus,  for  tens  of  thousands,  so  that  every 
Paddy,  from  Donegal  to  Kerry,  and  from  Wicklow  to 
Mayo,  may  here  find  a  stool,  a  tin  of  stirabout,  and 
pallet,  on  the  simple  condition  of  oathing  that  he  owns 
8 


170  ANNALS   OF  THE 

not  either  "  hide  or  hoof,"  screed  or  scrawl,  mattock 
or  spade,  pot  or  churn,  duck-pond,  manure-heap,  or 
potato-plot,  on  the  ground  that  reared  him,  and  simply 
put  his  seal  to  this  by  pulling  the  roof  from  his  own 
cabin.  Should  the  inquirer  be  at  a  loss  to  conjecture 
how,  when,  and  where  this  wide-spread  philanthropy 
had  a  beginning,  he  is  cited  back  to  the  good  old  days 
of  Elizabeth  and  James,  when  the  zealous  Christian 
plunderer,  Cromwell,  prepared  the  way  to  parcel  out 
the  island,  and  entail  it  forever  to  a  happy  few,  who 
found  a  race  of  people  who  would  dig  their  ditches, 
build  their  walls,  lay  out  their  parks  and  ponds,  for  a 
penny  or  two  a-day,  and  above  all,  could  be  made  pa- 
tiently to  feed  on  a  single  root,  and  live  in  mud  cabins, 
or  by  the  side  of  a  rock,  or  burrow  in  sandbanks,  who 
would  "go  at  their  command,  and  come  at  their  bid- 
ding ;"  and  beside,  for  the  unleased  patch  of  ground, 
where  they  grew  the  root  on  which  they  subsisted,  they 
paid  such  a  rent  as  enabled  the  masters  of  the  soil  to 
live  and  fare  sumptuously  at  home,  to  hunt  the  hare 
and  deer  over  the  mountain  and  glen,  with  lady,  dog 
and  gun,  or  to  travel  in  distant  lands.  With  all  these 
appliances,  they  had  lived  on,  sending  care  to  the  winds, 
till,  from  generation  to  generation,  they  found  these 
"  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water  "  had  become 
so  multifarious  that,  like  Pharaoa's  frogs,  they  en- 
compassed the  whole  land,  covering  bog  and  ditch,  cry- 
ing, "  give,  give,"  till  dinned  and  harassed  with  the 
undying  clamor,  they  were  moved  to  provide  food  and 
sTielter  in  palaces  of  stone  and  mortar,  where  all  care 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


m 


of  food,  raiment,  and  lodging  is  at  an  end,  and  they 
have  only  to  eat  when  they  are  fed,  lie  down  when  bid- 
den, rise  and  put  on  their  clothes  when  the  morning 
gives  them  light,  and  once  a-week  say  their  prayers  in 
the  church  or  chapel,  as  their  conscience  dictated,  with- 
out leaving  the  proud  roof  where  they  are  fed  and 
housed ! 

These  palaces  certainly  in  this  respect  stand  pre- 
eminent over  every  other  portion  of  the  earth,  and  tell 
the  true  story  of  Ireland's  strange  management  more 
than  volumes  of  essays  would  do.  To  pauperize  men, 
women,  and  children,  in  sight  of,  and  walking  over  a 
rich  uncultivated  soil,  as  is  Ireland,  and  shut  them  up, 
with  no  other  crimes  than  that  of  compulsory  poverty, 
where  they  are  fed,  clothed,  and  lodged  at  the  gover- 
nor's option,  inclosed  with  bolts  and  bars,  like  felons, 
with  no  more  freedom  than  state  prisoners  have,  is  cer- 
tainly a  strange  comment  on  liberty,  a  strange  com- 
ments-on  the  family  relationship,  which  prohibits  all 
intercourse  between  parents  and  children,  except  a  few 
hasty  moments  one  day  in  seven.  The  workhouses  in 
Ireland  are  many  of  them  well  managed  on  the  princi- 
ples as  they  are  established  ;  but,  as  an  overseer  in 
one  of  the  best  conducted  ones  said,  "  I  have  been  here 
many  years,  and  have  seen  the  workings  and  eifects  of 
a  poorhouse,  and  can  only  say — the  best  that  can  be 
said  of  them — they  are  prisons  under  a  different  name, 
calculated  to  produce  a  principle  of  idleness,  and  to 
degrade,  never  to  elevate,  to  deaden  in  the  human 
heart  that  rational  self-respect  which  individual  sup- 


112 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


port  generates,  and  which  should  be  kept  up  ;  and  may 
I  never  be  doomed  to  die  in  a  poorhouse." 

Nor  is  this  all.  The  unreclaimed  bogs  and  waste 
limiting  grounds  tell,  that  in  no  country  are  poor- 
houses  such  an  anomaly  as  in  Ireland  ;  and  the  Irish- 
man who  is  willing  to  work,  and  is  employed  there,  has 
no  moral  right  to  be  either  grateful  or  satisfied  that  he 
has  exchanged  even  a  mud  cabin  of  liberty  for  a  palace 
walled  and  locked,  where  his  food  is  measured  and 
doled,  where  his  family  are  strangers  to  him,  and  all 
the  social  interchanges  of  life  are  taken  from  him 
wholly.  Though  a  man  may  be  "  a  man  for  a'  that," 
yet  he  cannot  feel  himself  one  ;  nor  does  he  seldom, 
if  ever,  regain  that  standard  of  manly  independence 
which  belongs  to  man,  whatever  his  future  lot  may  be. 

TURNIPS. 

As  turnips  made  a  prominent  feature  in  the  absence 
of  their  predecessors,  the  potatoes,  during  the  famine, 
they  should  not  be  overlooked  in  the  annals  of  that  his- 
tory. They  were  to  the  starving  ones  supposed  to  be 
a  "  God-send,"  and  were  eaten  with  great  avidity, 
both  cooked  and  raw.  Many  of  the  cabiners  could  get 
but  little  fire,  and  they  cooked  only  the  tops,  while  the 
bottoms  were  taken  raw ;  those  who  had  no  shelter  to 
cook  under  could  not  well  eat  the  tops,  though  they 
often  tried  to  do  so.  It  has  been  ascertained  that  tur- 
nips contain  but  from  ten  to  fifteen  parts  of  nutriment 
to  a  hundred  parts,  thence  the  quantity  necessary  to 
nourish  the  body  must  require  bulk  to  a  great  amount. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


1T3 


This  root,  when  "boiled,  has  ever  been  considered  as 
safe  a  vegetable  for  the  invalid  as  any  in  the  vocabu- 
lary of  esculents  ;  and  even  the  fevered  invalid,  when 
prohibited  all  other  vegetables,  has  been  allowed  to 
partake  of  this,  not  because  of  its  nutrition,  but  because 
of  the  absence  of  it,  not  having  sufficient  to  injure  the 
weakest  body.  When  it  was  found  that  turnips  could 
be  so  easily  grown,  and  that  no  blast  had  as  yet  in- 
jured them,  they  were  hailed  with  great  joy  by  the 
peasants  and  by  the  people.  But  the  starving  ones 
soon  found  they  were  unsatisfactory,  for  when  they  had 
eaten  much  more  in  bulk  than  of  the  potato  they  were 
still  craving,  and  the  result  was,  where  for  weeks  they 
lived  wholly  on  them,  their  stomachs  were  so  swollen, 
especially  children's,  that  it  was  a  pitiable  sight  to  see 
them.  No  one  thought  it  was  the  turnip  :  but  I  found 
in  every  place  on  the  coast  where  they  were  fed  on 
them  the  same  results,  and  as  far  as  I  could  ascertain, 
such  died  in  a  few  weeks,  and  the  rational  conclusion 
must  be,  that  a  single  root,  so  innutritious  and  so 
watery  as  the  white  turnips  are,  cannot  sustain  a 
healthy  state  of  the  system,  nor  life  itself  for  any  con- 
siderable time.  When  going  through  the  Barony  of 
Erris,  the  appearance  of  these  turnip -eaters  became 
quite  a  dread.  Invariably  the  same  results  appeared 
wherever  used,  and  they  became  more  to  be  dreaded,  as 
it  was  feared  the  farmer  would  make  them  a  substitute 
for  the  potato,  and  the  ingenious  landlord  would  find  a 
happy  expedient  for  his  purse,  if  his  tenants  could  live 
on  the  turnip  as  well  as  the  potato.    Like  cattle  these 


174 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


poor  creatures  seemed  to  be  driven  from  one  herb  and 
root  to  another,  using  nettles,  turnip-tops,  chickweed, 
in  their  turn,  and  dying  at  last  on  these  miserable  sub- 
stitutes. Many  a  child  sitting  in  a  muddy  cabin  has 
been  interrogated,  what  she  or  he  had  eat,  "  nothing 
but  the  turnip,  ma'am,"  sometimes  the  "  turnip -top  ;" 
and  being  asked  when  this  was  procured,  sometimes 
the  answer  would  be,  "  yesterday,  lady,"  or,  "  when 
we  can  get  them,  ma'am." 

BLACK  BREAD. 

We  turn  from  the  turnip  and  see  what  virtue  there 
is  in  black  bread  ;  and  my  only  regret  is,  that  my 
powers  of  description  are  so  faint,  that  I  cannot  de- 
scribe one-half  of  what  might  be  told  of  that  novel 
article  used  for  many  a  month  in  the  county  of  Mayo. 
The  relief  officers  there  were  under  government  pay, 
and,  as  they  asserted,  under  government  orders  ;  but  it 
is  much  to  be  doubted  whether  the  government,  had 
they  been  served  with  a  loaf  of  that  bread,  would  have 
ordered  it  for  either  man  or  beast.  The  first  that 
greeted  my  wondering  eyes  was  in  a  poor  village  be- 
tween Achill  and  Newport,  where,  while  stopping  to 
feed  the  horse,  a  company  of  children  who  had  been  at 
school,  and  received  a  few  ounces  of  this  daily,  came  in 
with  the  boon  in  their  hands.  The  woman  of  the 
house  reached  a  piece  to  me,  asking  if  I  ever  saw  the 
like.  Indeed,  I  never  had,  and  had  never  tasted  the 
like.  Supposing  it  must  have  been  accidental,  and 
that  no  other  of  the  kind  had  ever  been  made,  I  said. 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


175 


"  This  is  not  such  bread  as  the  children  usually  eat." 
She  answered,  "  They  have  had  it  for  some  weeks." 
It  was  sour,  black,  and  of  the  consistency  of  liver  ; 
but  thinking  that  the  baker  had  been  mostly  to  blame, 
this  bread  did  not  make  such  an  impression  on  me  as 
that  which  I  saw  for  weeks  afterward. 

A  few  days  after  this,  a  gentleman,  at  whose  house  I 
stopped,  brought  into  the  room  a  loaf  of  the  genuine 
"  black  bread."  "  Here,"  said  he,  "  is  the  reward  of 
a  day's  labor  of  a  poor  man,  who  has  been  sitting  on 
the  ground  this  cold  day  to  break  stones."  Not  one 
present  could  have  told  what  it  was,  till  taking  it  in  the 
hand ;  and  even  then  it  was  quite  doubtful  whether 
men  would  provide  such  a  material  to  reward  a  laboring 
man  for  a  day's  work  ;  but  it  was  indeed  so.  The 
man  who  had  come  into  possession  of  this  boon  was  one 
among  many,  some  of  whom  had  walked  three,  four  and 
even  five  miles,  and  had  labored  through  a  cold  day  in 
March  without  eating,  and  this  bread  weighed  a  pound. 
But  the  material  and  the  color  !  The  material  could 
not  have  been  analyzed  but  by  a  chemist,  but  the  color 
was  precisely  that  of  dry  turf,  so  much  so  that  when  a 
piece  was  placed  upon  a  table  by  the  side  of  a  bit  of 
turf,  no  eye  could  detect  the  difference,  and  it  was  very 
difficult  to  do  so  when  taking  it  in  hand.  The  next 
day,  calling  on  a  gentleman  of  respectability  and  a 
friend  to  his  country,  he  inquired  if  in  my  excursions  I 
had  met  with  the  bread  that  the  relief  officers  were 
giving  the  poor,  adding,  "  I  will  procure  you  a  piece." 
He  then  sent  to  the  shop  where  it  was  kept  and  bought 


176 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


a  loaf ;  it  was  common  unbolted  flour-bread,  of  a  mid- 
dling quality.  He  sent  it  back  ;  they  denied  having 
or  selling  any  other  kind  to  the  poor,  or  ever  having 
done  so.  "  Go,"  said  the  gentlemen,  "  into  the  school 
where  the  bread  is  distributed,  and  then  the  facts  will 
be  palpable."  I  went.  A  school  of  one  hundred  and 
forty  or  one  hundred  and  fifty  girls  were  in  waiting  for 
this  bread,  which  had  been  sent  for  to  the  shop.  It 
came,  was  cut  in  slices,  and  having  been  baked  that 
morning,  the  effluvia  was  fresh,  and  though  standing  at 
the  extremity  of  a  long  room,  with  the  street  door  open, 
the  nausea  became  so  offensive  that  after  taking  a  slice 
for  a  pattern,  and  having  ascertained  from  the  teacher 
that  this  was  the  daily  bread  which  she  had  been  cutting 
for  weeks,  I  hastened  home  with  the  prize,  placed  the 
bread  upon  paper  where  good  air  could  reach  it ;  the 
disagreeable  smell  gradually  subsided,  but  the  bread 
retained  all  its  appearance  for  weeks,  never  becoming 
sour,  but  small  spots  of  a  greenish  color  like  mould 
here  and  there  dotted  upon  it.  These  spots  were  not 
abundant  :  the  remainder  appeared  precisely  like  turf- 
mould,  and  was  judged  to  be  so. 

Where  these  relief  officers  made  out  this  article  was 
not  satisfactorily  explained.  u  They  did  as  they  were 
bidden."  Report  said  that  some  twenty-nine  years 
before,  the  government  had  deposited  in  that  region 
some  continental  material  for  bread,  which  had  become 
damaged,  and  then  could  not  be  sold.  But  twenty- 
nine  years  it  had  withstood  the  ravages  of  rats,  mice 
and  vermin,  and  had  now  come  out  an  eatable  com- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


177 


modity  for  charity.  And  here  it  was  scattered  daily 
through  mountain  and  glen  ;  and  for  this  equivalent  the 
poor  man  must  give  up  his  land,  take  off  the  roof  of 
his  cabin  with  his  own  hand — for,  as  the  government 
has  not  required  this,  the  driver,  like  a  slave  one,  ever 
faithful  to  his  master's  interest  and  good  name,  tells 
the  starving  cabiner  if  he  will  not  ascend  the  roof  of 
his  hut  and  unthatch  it,  and  tumble  down  the  stones 
with  his  own  hand,  that  he  shall  neither  have  the 
pound  of  meal  or  black  bread.  Then  this  driver 
screens  himself  behind  the  flimsy  covering  that  the 
cabiner  did  it  with  his  own  hands,  and  the  landlord 
gravely  tells  you  that  it  was  done  without  his  orders, 
and  probably  without  his  knowledge.  Slave-owners  do 
precisely  in  the  same  way.  They  employ  a  faithful 
driver,  pay  him  bountifully,  and  his  duty  is  to  get  the 
most  work  done  in  the  least  time,  and  in  the  best  way. 
If  a  delinquent  be  flogged  to  death,  the  owner  is  al- 
ways away  from  home  or  somehow  engaged — entirely 
ignorant  of  the  matter.  But  mark !  however  often 
these  cruelties  may  be  repeated,  the  driver  maintains 
his  post  and  his  salary.  Are  the  public  to  be  so  duped 
in  either  case,  that  the  slaveholder  and  landlord  are  not 
satisfied  with  this  flogging  and  this  pulling  down  of 
houses  ?    Why,  then,  are  they  ever  repeated  1 

The  age  of  black  bread  and  pulling  down  houses 
certainly  has  fallen  peculiarly  under  the  reign  of  the 
Queen  and  her  agent  John  Russell ;  yet  it  might  be 
wholly  unjust  to  impute  either  to  their  orders  or  even 
consent.  The  black  bread  was  a  cheap  substitute  for 
8* 


178 


THE  FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


good  flour  or  meal ;  and  if  meddlesome  people  had 
staid  at  home,  minding  their  own  concerns,  who  would 
ever  have  thought  of  complaining  about  bread  1  The 
poor  starving  ones  had  reached  that  point  that  they 
would  swallow  anything  in  the  shape  of  food  that  could 
have  been  swallowed,  without  uttering  a  murmur. 

A  few  pieces  of  this  bread  were  put  in  a  letter,  di- 
rected to  a  friend  in  London,  that  the  Committee  there, 
acting  for  the  poor  in  Ireland,  might  have  a  sight. 
The  letter  was  carried  to  the  postmaster,  and  an  ex- 
planation given  him  of  the  precious  gift  contained  in  it, 
and  the  object  of  so  doing,  &c.  ;  that  it  was  to  let  the 
people  of  England  see  if  they  acknowledged  this  article 
as  a  provision  of  theirs  for  the  poor.  The  letter  never 
reached  its  destination  ;  the  postmaster  was  interrogat- 
ed by  the  writer  ;  he  affirmed  that  he  had  seen  no  such 
letter,  nor  heard  one  word  about  it ;  when  lo  !  this  for- 
getful postmaster  was  one  of  the  said  relief  officers  who 
managed  the  black  bread !  "  Whoso  readeth  let  him 
understand." 

Whether  the  poor  lived  or  whether  they  died  on  this 
bread,  or  by  this  bread,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say,  only 
that  death  was  doing  its  work  by  hunger,  fever,  and 
dysentery  continually. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"  Earth,  of  man  the  bounteous  mother, 
Feeds  him  still  with  corn  and  vine  : 
He  who  best  would  aid  a  brother, 
Shares  with  him  these  gifts  divine/' 

Newport  and  its  vicinity  presented  a  variety  of  ex- 
citing scenes  :  here  in  this  pretty  town,  families  of  tol- 
erable comfort  declined  step  by  step,  till  many  who 
would  have  outlived  the  common  changes  of  life  could 
not  maintain  their  standing  in  this  hour  of  trial.  A 
former  rector,  by  the  name  of  Wilson,  died  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1847,  leaving  a  widow  and  four  children  on  a 
pretty  spot,  where  they  had  resided  for  years,  and  ga- 
thered the  comforts  of  life  about  them.  Here  I  was 
invited  to  spend  a  few  weeks,  and  would  with  gratitude 
record  the  many  favors  shown  me  there ;  and  with 
deep  sorrow  would  add,  that  I  saw  step  by  step  all 
taken  for  taxes  and  rent ;  everything  that  had  life  out 
of  doors  that  could  be  sold  at  auction,  was  sold  ;  then 
everything  of  furniture,  till  beds  and  tables  left  the 
little  cottage,  and  the  mother  was  put  in  jail,  and  is 
now  looking  through  its  grates,  while  her  children  are 
struggling  for  bread.  Sir  Richard  O'Donnell  is  the 
landlord  in  possession  of  most  of  the  land  there,  and 
his  "  driver,"  like  others  akin  to  him,  does  strange 


180 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


things  to  the  tenants,  quite  unknown  to  the  landlord, 
who  has  been  called  humane. 

But  this  fearless  "  driver  "  throws,  or  causes  to  be 
thrown  down,  cabin  after  cabin,  and  sometimes  whole 
villages,  of  which  it  is  said  the  landlord  was  entirely 
ignorant,  but  the  pitiless  storm  heeded  not  that,  and 
the  poor  starved  exiles  pleading  that  the  cabin  might 
be  left  a  little  longer,  have  no  pity,  their  pot  and  even 
the  cloak,  which  is  the  peasant  woman's  all  by  night 
and  by  day,  has  often  been  torn  from  her  emaciated 
limbs,  and  sold  at  auction.  Perhaps  in  no  instance 
does  the  oppression  of  the  poor,  and  the  sighing  of  the 
needy  come  before  the  mind  so  vividly,  as  when  going 
over  the  places  made  desolate  by  the  famine,  to  see  the 
tumbled  cabins,  with  the  poor  hapless  inmates,  who  had 
for  years  sat  around  their  turf  fire,  and  ate  their  potato 
together,  now  lingering  and  ofttimes  wailing  in  despair, 
their  ragged  barefooted  little  ones  clinging  about  them, 
one  on  the  back  of  the  weeping  mother,  and  the  father 
looking  in  silent  despair,  while  a  part  of  them  are 
scraping  among  the  rubbish  to  gather  some  little  relic 
of  mutual  attachment — (for  the  poor,  reader,  have  their 
tender  remembrances) — then,  in  a  flock,  take  their  soli- 
tary, their  pathless  way  to  seek  some  rock  or  ditch,  to 
rncamp  supperless  for  the  night,  without  either  cov- 
ering for  the  head  or  the  feet,  with  not  the  remnant  of 
a  blanket  to  spread  over  them  in  the  ditch,  where  they 
must  crawl.  Are  these  solitary  cases  ?  Happy  would 
it  be  were  it  so  ;  but  village  upon  village,  and  company 
after  company  have  I  seen  ;  and  one  magistrate  who 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


181 


was  traveling  informed  me  that  at  nightfall  the  pre- 
ceding day,  he  found  a  company  who  had  gathered  a 
few  sticks  and  fastened  them  into  the  ditch,  and  spread 
over  what  miserable  rags  they  could  collect  (for  the 
rain  was  fast  pouring)  ;  and  under  these  more  than  two 
hundred  men,  women,  and  children,  were  to  crawl  for 
the  night.  He  alighted  from  his  car,  and  counted 
more  than  two  hundred ;  they  had  all  that  day  been 
driven  out,  and  not  one  pound  of  any  kind  of  food  was 
in  the  whole  encampment ! 

"When  I  went  over  desolate  Erris,  and  saw  the 
demolished  cabins  belonging  to  J.  Walshe,  I  begged  to 
know  if  all  had  died  from  that  hamlet — **  Worse  than 
died,77  was  the  answer';  for  if  they  are  alive,  they  are 
in  sandbanks  on  the  bleak  sea-shore,  or  crowded  into 
some  miserable  cabin  for  a  night  or  two,  waiting  for 
death ;  they  are  lingering  out  the  last  hours  of  suffer- 
ing. Oh  !  ye  poor,  ye  miserable  oppressors  !  what  will 
ye  do,  when  the  day  of  God's  wrath  shall  come  1 
Have  ye  ever  thought  what  w  rock  and  mountain  M  ye 
can  call  upon  to  screen  your  naked  heads,  who  would 
not  here  give  the  poor  and  hungry  a  shelter  ]  AY  hen 
u  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat then 
shall  the  blaze  of  these  ruins  scorch  and  scathe  you  ; 
yea,  burn  you  up,  if  you  do  not  now  make  haste  to  re- 
pent. Ye  lords,  when  the  Lord  of  lords,  and  God  of 
gods,  shall  gird  on  his  sword  :  then  shall  these  poor  be  a 
swift  witness  against  you.  The  widow  and  the  father- 
less ye  have  delighted  to  oppress,  because  they  could 
not.  resist  you,  and  yet  you  dare  to  call  yourselves  by 


182 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


the  name  of  Hiin,  whose  mission  was  mercy,  and  who 
marks  diligently  the  ways  of  him  who  delights  in  un- 
just gain,  and  is  deaf  to  the  cries  of  the  widow  and 
fatherless.  Often,  when  looking  at  these  wandering 
exiles,  woful  as  is  their  case,  yet  my  heart  has  said 
how  much  more  woful  is  the  case  of  him  who  drove 
you  into  the  storm.  Well  might  James  say,  "  Go  to, 
ye  rich  men,  weep  and  howl and  well  did  Christ 
pray — "  Father  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what 
they  do." 

Contrasted  with  these  were  a  few  of  better  stamp, 
whose  hearts  had  not  become  entirely  seared  by  the 
love  of  gain.  Mr.  Pounding  and  his  wife,  who  died  by 
their  excessive  labors  among  the  poor ;  he  was  rector 
in  Westport,  and  his  money  and  time  were  faithfully 
employed  in  saving,  and  not  destroying  the  poor.  His 
name  is  now  in  sweet  remembrance  by  those  whom  he 
succored  in  their  time  of  need.  It  was  pleasant,  too, 
to  see  the  laborers,  whom  Sir  Richard  employed  in  the 
cultivation  of  flax  in  the  summer  and  autumn  of  1847. 
Among  the  thousands  which  were  happily  at  work, 
were  many  women,  and  their  cheerful  responses  testi- 
fied how  they  prized  the  boon  to  be  allowed  to  labor, 
when  they  could  earn  but  a  few  pence  a-day*  This 
work  ended,  and  with  it  many  of  the  poor  were  left 
hopeless,  and  probably  before  another  spring  opened 
they  were  sent  out  into  the  storm,  by  the  "  driver"  of 
this  same  Sir,  who  saw  them  work  so  willingly. 

Mr.  Gildea,  too,  had  a  fine  establishment  for  spin- 
ning and  weaving.    Here  are  employed  about  seven 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


183 


hundred,  mostly  women,  spinning  and  hand-skutching, 
and  their  earnings  were  three  shiiliDgs  and  three  shil- 
lings and  sixpence  per  week.  The  yarn  was  spun  by 
hand,  and  the  weaving  by  a  spring  shuttle.  The  table- 
linen  and  sheeting  would  compete  with  any  manufac- 
tory in  any  country.  Yet  this  valuable  establishment 
was  doing  its  last  work  for  want  of  encouragement — 
want  of  funds  ;  and  machinery  is  doing  the  work  faster 
and  selling  cheaper,  though  the  material  is  not  so  dur- 
able. What  can  the  poor  laborer  do  ;  willing  to  work 
at  any  price,  and  begging  to  do  so,  yet  cannot  be  al- 
lowed the  privilege.  Mr.  Gildea  kept  a  number  em- 
ployed, and  employed  to  a  good  purpose,  many  of  whom 
may  at  last  starve  for  food. 

The  state  of  the  famine  here  might  be  illustrated  by 
a  few  facts  which  came  under  my  observation.  The 
chapel  bell  tolled  one  morning  early,  when  a  respectable 
young  woman  was  brought  into  the  yard  for  interment. 
No  bells  tolled  for  the  starving,  they  must  have  the 
"  burial  of  an  ass,"  or  none  at  all.  A  young  lad  im 
proved  this  opportunity  while  the  gate  was  open,  and 
carried  in  a  large  sack  on  his  back,  which  contained 
two  brothers,  one  seventeen,  the  other  a  little  boy,  who 
had  died  by  starvation.  In  one  corner  he  dug,  with 
his  own  emaciated  feeble  hands,  a  grave,  and  put  them 
in,  uncoffined,  and  covered  them,  while  the  clods  were 
falling  upon  the  coffin  of  the  respectable  young  woman. 
I  never  witnessed  a  more  stirring  striking  contrast  be- 
tween civilized  and  savage  life — Christianity  and  hea- 
thenism— wealth  and  poverty,  than  in  this  instance  ;  it 


184 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


said  so  much  for  the  mockery  of  death,  with  all  its 
trappings  and  ceremonies — the  mockery  of  pompous 
funerals,  and  their  black  retinue.  This  poor  boy  un- 
heeded had  staid  in  the  dark  cabin  with  those  dead 
brothers,  not  even  getting  admittance  into  the  gate,  till 
some  respectable  one  should  want  a  burial ;  then  he 
might  follow  this  procession  at  a  suitable  distance, 
with  two  dead  brothers  upon  his  back,  and  put  them 
in  with  his  own  hands,  with  none  to  compassionate  him  ! 

A  cabin  was  seen  closed  one  day  a  little  out  of  the 
town,  when  a  man  had  the  curiosity  to  open  it,  and  in 
a  dark  corner  he  found  a  family  of  the  father,  mother, 
and  two  children,  lying  in  close  compact.  The  father 
was  considerably  decomposed  ;  the  mother,  it  appeared, 
had  died  last,  and  probably  fastened  the  door,  which 
was  always  the  custom  when  all  hope  was  extinguished, 
to  get  into  the  darkest  corner  and  die,  where  passers- 
by  could  not  see  them.  Such  family  scenes  were  quite 
common,  and  the  cabin  was  generally  pulled  down  upon 
them  for  a  grave.  The  man  called,  begging  me  to 
look  in.  I  did  not,  and  could  not  endure,  as  the  famine 
progressed,  such  sights,  as  well  as  at  the  first,  they  were 
too  real,  and  these  realities  became  a  dread.  In  all 
my  former  walks  over  the  island,  by  day  or  night,  no 
shrinking  or  fear  of  danger  ever  retarded  in  the  least 
my  progress?  but  now,  the  horror  of  meeting  living 
walking  ghosts,  or  stumbling  upon  the  dead  in  my  path 
at  night,  inclined  me  to  keep  within  when  necessity  did 
not  call.  The  entire  face  of  the  country  was  changed, 
for  though  poverty  always  was  brooding  her  dismal 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


185 


wings  over  that  island,  yet  now  she  had  sharpened  her 
teeth,  and  in  many  parts  desperation  was  driving  the 
people  to  deeds  which  had  long  slept,  or  which  never 
before  had  been  transacted.  A  class  of  persons,  driven 
to  madness  by  idleness  and  hunger,  were  prowling  at 
night  through  some  parts  of  the  country,  calling  them- 
selves "  Molly  Maguires."  These  go  from  house  to 
house,  in  disguise,  demanding  money,  and  if  denied, 
they  card  the  refuser  till  the  skin  becomes  lacerated  ; 
this  scratching  is  performed  sometimes  with  a  card  and 
sometimes  with  the  whin-bush,,  which  is  full  of  small 
thorns,  but  these  thorns,  when  applied  to  the  skin,  take 
leave  of  the  bush,  and  remain  there,  so  that  the  sufferer 
must  often  continue  days  before  he  can  rid  himself  of 
these  troublesome  comrades.  Many  of  these  marauders 
have  been  apprehended,  yet  the  practice  did  not  cease, 
because  they  were  encouraged  by  the  country  people, 
who  had  cattle  in  the  pounds  which  had  been  seized  for 
taxes,  and  these  expert  gentry,  for  a  small  reward,  lib- 
erated and  restored  the  animals  to  the  original  owners. 
A  good  supper  of  the  best  bread,  butter,  milk,  and 
fowls,  which  the  farmer  could  supply,  ended  the  even- 
ing's jollity.  White-boys,  Peep-o'-day  boys,  Lady 
Clares,  and  Molly  Maguires,  are  hereditary  entail- 
ments, having  existed  ever  since  parceling  out  the  land 
so  unjustly,  as  a  reward  of  plunder,  was  done  to  a  few. 
Uncultivated  as  the  mind  of  the  Irish  peasantry  may 
be,  it  is  not  inactive — the  pool  is  not  stagnant — life  of 
some  kind  will  sparkle  up  ;  and  truly,  if  ever  oppres 
sion  was  justifiable  in  making  wise  men  "  mad,"  it  is 


186 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


in  Ireland.  When  the  cup  is  full  it  will  flow  over  ; — 
and  the  saying,  that  Ireland  "  must  have  a  rebellion 
every  forty  or  fifty  years,"  has  a  law  of  nature  for  its 
foundation.  The  grand  river  that  supplies  the  mighty 
"  Niagara,"  flows  quietly  on  for  many  a  mile,  till  it 
reaches  a  certain  point,  when  it  takes  a  rapidity,  gath- 
ering force  as  it  proceeds,  till  it  meets  the  fearful  pre- 
cipice down  which  it  has  roared  and  tumbled  for  ages, 
and  down  which  it  will  roar  and  tumble  till  nature  her- 
self shall  be  dissolved. 

The  so-called  "  Rebellion  "  of  1848,  which  sadly 
sealed  the  fate  of  Mitchell  and  O'Brien,  was  precisely 
this  law.  They  had  waited  and  suffered,  suffered  and 
waited,  till  they  reached  the  awful  chasm — the  famine. 
They  had  seen  it  swallow  its  thousands,  and  they  saw 
and  felt  that  this  chasm  might  have  been  closed  ;  they 
looked  on,  they  agitated,  till  their  philanthropic  love  of 
country  and  deep  sense  of  justice  rushed  into  a  tempo- 
rary madness,  rashness,  and  an  insanity  which  hurled 
them  headlong  into  their  present  abyss.  The  Tippe- 
rary  men,  who  congregated  on  that  hill,  with  their 
flocks  and  herds,  gave  a  rational  reply  to  the  priest, 
who  exhorted  them  to  disperse,  rational — for  unculti- 
vated barbarians,  as  their  enemies  call  them. 

The  priest  pointed  them  to  the  absurdity,  the  rash- 
ness of  rising  against  so  formidable  an  enemy  as  Eng- 
land and  her  soldiers  stationed  in  the  country.  "Bet- 
ter  suffer  than  fight,  and  fight  for  nothing,  too."  They 
added,  "It  isn't  the  likes  of  us,  yer  riverence, -that 
looks  for  the  right,  or  the  Repale,  but  the  long  winter 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


187 


of  the  famine  will  be  on  us,  and  we  shall  die  with  hun- 
ger ;  the  blackguard  taxes  will  take  all  the  cattle,  and 
we  took  'em  here,  plaise  your  riverence,  to  ate,  and  let 
the  soldiers  shoot  us,  and  that  will  be  the  quick  death 
for  us  ;  better  than  the  long  hunger,  your  riverence — 
better  than  the  hunger.'1  Now,  that  was  certainly, 
for  "  barbarians,"  quite  a  civilized,  if  not  philosophical 
answer,  and  quite  in  keeping  with  Irish  coolness  in  dif- 
ficulty and  danger.  It  was  somethiDg  like  a  company 
from  a  district  in  the  south  of  Ireland,  in  the  time  of 
the  first  winter  of  the  famine.  They  had  given  up  all 
hope  of  life,  and  consulted  to  go  in  company  to  the 
poorhouse,  and  die  there,  that  they  might  be  buried  in 
coffins.  Such  a  haggard  array  of  misery  had  never 
been  seen  before  in  one  body,  and  the  soldiers  were  or- 
dered to  be  on  the  spot  at  the  workhouse  to  keep  all  in 
safety.  These  despairing  creatures  paused  before  the 
red  coats  and  guns,  and  implored  them  to  shoot  them 
down,  and  end  their  long  misery  at  once.  This  was  no 
false  bravado.  They  were  sincere,  and  not  one  among 
them,  it  is  believed,  would  have  shrunk  in  the  face  of 
that  death. 

This  rebellion,  it  should  be  told,  was  not  that  un- 
grateful affair  as  has  been  represented.  It  was  not 
agitated,  or  scarcely  known,  among  the  thousands  who 
had  been  charitably  fed  in  the  famine.  It  originated 
among  the  higher  classes  of  well-fed  politicians,  who 
were  too  enlightened  not  to  know  the  causes  of  their 
country's  sufferings,  and  too  humane  to  look  on  with 
indifference.    They  were  seconded  by  a  lower  class  of 


188  ANNALS  OF  THE 

men,  who  had  not  as  yet  felt  the  whole  force  of  the 
famine  in  their  own  stomachs,  but  knew  it  must  speedi- 
ly come  upon  them.  "  Give  us  death  by  the  bullet," 
they  said,  "  and  not  the  starvation."  All  this  should 
be  taken  into  consideration ;  and  beside,  this  rebellion 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  sectarian  spirit  of  the  coun- 
try. Protestants  were  at  the  head  of  it,  and  many  of 
the  Catholics  chimed  in,  but  the  priests,  as  a  body, 
stood  aloof,  and  expostulated  with  their  people  to  do 
the  same.  The  O'Connells  were  loud  against  it,  in 
word  and  action  ;  and  had  the  Catholics  as  a  body 
united  their  forces,  Ireland  would  have  been  one  vast 
field  of  blood. 

CROY  LODGE  AND  BALLINA. 

Through  the  romantic  snow-topped  mountains  of 
Doughhill,  a  son  of  Mrs.  Wilson  conducted  me  on  her 
car  to  Ballycroy,  or  Croy  Lodge,  the  cottage  on  a  most 
wild  coast,  where  Maxwell  wrote  his  "  Wild  Sports  of 
the  West."  We  wound  among  mountains  of  the  most 
lofty  kind  ;  and  hanging  over  the  sea,  reflecting  their 
snowy  sides  from  its  molten  surface,  with  a  bright 
morning  sun  shining  upon  them,  they  were  strangely 
beautiful.  The  panorama  was  exceedingly  interesting, 
and  the  more  so  that  the  peasants  appeared  better  fed 
than  any  I  had  met  in  the  country.  The  relief-officers 
here  might  be  more  attentive,  seeing  that  this  destitute 
spot  so  inclosed  could  yield  no  possible  relief. 

Stopping  to  feed  the  pony,  a  woman  entered,  whom 
we  had  passed  an  hour  before,  with  a  little  girl  peep- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


189 


ing  out  from  under  a  cloak  upon  her  back.  She  told 
us  she  had  been  at  Mulrone  the  day  before,  in  hopes  of 
getting  a  little  meal,  and  was  disappointed  ;  it  was  not 
the  day  that  the  relief  was  given  out.  They  were  pen- 
niless, and  had  not  eaten  since  the  day  before,  and  the 
walk  was  nine  miles.  Having  in  my  reticule  a  sweet 
biscuit,  it  was  given  to  the  pretty  and  clean  hungry 
child.  She  took  it,  and  gave  me  a  "  God  bless  ye, 
lady,"  but  could  not  be  prevailed  to  eat  it ;  she  wrap- 
ped it  in  her  pinafore  most  carefully,  looked  up  to  her 
mother  and  smilec1,  but  would  not  break  it.  "  How  is 
this  V9  I  asked  the  mother ;  "  she  cannot  be  hungry." 
"  She  is  indeed  hungry,  but  she  never  saw  Such  a  thing 
before,  and  she  cannot  think  of  parting  with  it,  hungry 
as  she  must  be."  Such  self-denial  in  a  child  was  quite 
beyond  my  comprehension,  but  so  inured  are  these  peo- 
ple to  want,  that  their  endurance  and  self-control  are 
almost  beyond  belief.  Giving  her  a  piece  of  bread, 
she  ate  it  with  the  greatest  zest — she  had  seen  bread 
before. 

We  took  her  upon  the  car,  and  for  three  miles  she 
rode  under  my  cloak,  with  her  biscuit  snugly  wrapped 
in  her  apron,  holding  it  most  carefully  between  her 
hands ;  and  when  we  set  her  down,  at  the  turn  of  the 
road  and  I  saw  her  little  bare  feet  running  away,  and 
heard  her  last  word  of  "  bless  ye,  lady,"  with  the  pre- 
cious treasure  safely  secured,  I  prayed  the  Savior  that 
he  would  take  that  little  lamb  of  his  flock,  and  shelter 
her  in  his  bosom  from  the  bleak  winds  of  adversity,  that 
are  so  keenly  blowing  and  withering  the  cheek  of  many 


190 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


a  fair  blossom"  in  that  stricken  country.  Some  days 
after  the  mother  found  me,  and  said  the  biscuit  was 
preserved,  "  to  remember  the  nice  lady  !"  How  little 
does  it  take  to  make  such  poor  happy  !  The  country 
was  bleak  and  barren,  and  a  cordial  welcome  to  Croy 
Lodge  after  dark  was  a  pleasant  salutation.  Here, 
shut  in  from  wind  and  cold  by  a  bright  turf  fire,  clean 
cloth,  and  good  dinner,  had  there  been  none  starving 
without,  the  evening  would  have  been  a  pleasant  one. 
Ballacroy  had  suffered  much,  but  it  was  not  Belmullet. 
That  ghastly  look  and  frightful  stare  had  not  eaten  out 
all  the  appearance  of  life  and  hope  which  many  mani- 
fested. A  visit  to  the  national  school  gave  not  a  very 
favorable  impression  of  the  state  of  the  children ; 
nearly  a  hundred  pale-faced  and  bare-footed  little  ones 
were  crowded  into  a  cold  room,  squatting  upon  their 
feet,  cowering  closely  together,  waiting  for  ten  ounces 
of  bread,  which  was  all  their  support,  but  now  and  then 
a  straggling  turnip-top.  The  teacher,  with  a  salary  of 
£12  a  year,  could  not  be  expected  to  be  of  the  nicer 
sort,  nor  of  the  highest  attainments  in  education.  The 
improvement  of  the  children  would  not  in  some  time  fit 
them  for  a  class  in  college. 

From  this  university  I  went  to  a  hunting-lodge  kept 
by  Mr.  Wilson,  accompanied  by  the  kind  teacher,  who 
insisted  that  a  watch-dog,  kept  by  the  gentleman  for 
the  purpose  of  guarding  the  premises,  would  "  ate  me" 
if  I  went  alone.  Assuring  him  that  the  dogs  in  Ire- 
land had  always  treated  me  with  great  urbanity,  and 
that  I  feared  no  harm,  he  would  not  allow  it;  the 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


191 


"blackguard,"  he  added,  "will  rend  ye;"  and  he 
kindly  conducted  me  to  the  door.  The  dog  growled ; 
speaking  kindly  to  him,  he  led  me  through  the  hall, 
and  when  I  was  seated,  doglike,  he  put  his  amicable 
nose  upon  my  lap.  The  master  approvingly  said, 
"  That  dog,  madam,  is  very  cross  and  even  dangerous 
to  any  ragged  person  or  beggar  that  approaches  the 
premises  ;  but  when  one  decently  clothed  enters,  he 
welcomes  them  as  he  has  done  you."  So  much  for  the 
training  of  dogs,  and  their  aptness  in  acquiring  the 
spirit  of  their  masters. 

Never  before,  in  Ireland,  had  so  good  an  opportunity 
been  presented  me  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
trade  of  a  real  sportsman,  its  merits  and  demerits,  as 
now  ;  and  knowing  that  the  occupation  had  been  in 
the  country  quite  a  celebrated  one,  I  hoped  here  to 
learn  its  real  advantages. 

Mr.  Wilson  was  keeping  the  lodge  for  Mr.  Vernon, 
of  Clontorf  Castle,  near  Dublin,  to  hunt  and  fowl  as 
he  best  could.  "  I  am  dying,"  he  said,  "  with  rheu- 
matic pains,  brought  on  by  wading  through  the  bogs  in 
pursuit  of  the  hare  and  wild  fowl."  He  had  a  noble 
company  of  dogs,  terriers  and  pointers,  and  was  sur- 
rounded with  all  the  respectable  insignia  of  a  hunter  of 
olden  time.  "  It  is  a  frivolous  employment,"  he  ob- 
served, "  and  I  have  long  been  sick  of  gaming."  The 
room  was  hung  round  with  all  sorts  of  game  which  is 
taken  by  these  gentry  ;  and  his  little  daughter  of  four 
years  of  age  brought  me  a  book  containing  pictures  of 
hares,  foxes,  fowls  and  dogs,  and  quite  scientifically 


102 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


explained  the  manner  of  taking  them,  the  tact  of  the 
scenters,  and  the  duty  of  the  pointers,  so  that  I  was 
initiated  into  the  first  principles  of  this  fashionable 
trade  ;  she  could  read  intelligibly,  and  when  I  commit- 
ted an  error  in  the  pronunciation  or  understanding  of 
the  maneuvers  of  leaping  ditches  and  following  dogs, 
she  set  me  right,  wondering  at  my  dullness,  and  some- 
times rebuking  it.  This  child  had  superior  talents, 
and  had  the  mother  who  cultivated  them  the  spirit  of 
Timothy's  mother  and  grandmother,  she  might  and 
would  be  capable  of  much  use  in  her  age.  Her  father 
said  she  had  a  great  taste  for  the  tactics  of  hunting 
and  fowling,  and  had  acquired  her  knowledge  of  read- 
ing so  young  by  the  fondness  of  studying  the  pictures 
and  spelling  out  the  names  of  the  games.  Perverted 
knowledge  !  and  when  carried  to  the  extent  that  some 
who  call  themselves  ladies  in  Ireland  have  done,  and 
practiced  with  that  zest  that  many  have  manifested,  it 
becomes  a  romantic  mania,  quite  in  keeping  with  the 
mountain  squaw  of  the  American  forest,  whose  undaunt- 
ed prowess  and  athletic  exercises  give  her  a  manliness 
of  look  and  manner  which  would  not  disgrace  a  Spar- 
tan. 

An  opportunity  of  improving  upon  the  lessons  my 
young  teacher  had  given  me,  afterward  offered  itself  in 
the  person  of  a  lady,  whose  talents  at  this  pursuit  had 
been  cultivated  to  a  high  extent.  She  would  on  a  cold 
morning  jump  upon  her  favorite  hunting-horse,  capa- 
risoned in  true  hunter's  style,  her  ready  attendants, 
hounds,  pointers  and  terriers  in  advance  or  pursuit, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


193 


arid  gallop  at  full  speed,  till  some  scenter  should  get 
upon  the  track ;  then  hedge  and  ditch,  valley  and  hill, 
were  scarcely  heeded.  The  sure-footed  horse  knew  his 
duty,  and  no  circuitous  route  was  taken  ;  if  a  hedge 
intervened,  it  was  leaped  or  broken  through  ;  if  bog  or 
slough  sunk  him  mid-deep,  her  cap  and  feather  were 
soon  seen  tossing  u  high  and  dry"  above  all  mire  and 
danger,  pursuing  still  faster  as  excitement  grew  warm- 
er, till  the  lucky  dogs  gave  signal  that  the  object  was 
secured ;  then  the  delight,  the  ecstasy,  of  seeing  the 
palpitating  victim  in  its  agonies,  in  the  power  of  her 
faithful  pets  ;  and  thus  the  live-long  day  the  sport 
continued.  At  night  she  returned,  with  the  dogs, 
game,  and  companion  of  her  chase,  who  was  sometimes 
her  father,  who  had  delighted  from  her  childhood  to 
cultivate  this  fondness  in  his  daughter  ;  sometimes  it 
might  be  a  brother,  and  sometimes  a  generous  party 
would  compose  the  company.  But  the  coming  home, 
the  sit-down  for  the  recital  of  the  pleasures  of  the  day, 
if  the  victim  were  a  hare,  this  was  a  valuable  equiva- 
lent ;  the  manner  of  its  flight,  its  narrow  escapes,  its 
terror,  was  so  delightful  to  witness,  when  the  dogs 
were  close  upon  it,  and  then  the  dying,  all  would  be 
minutely  described,  the  dogs  would  be  gathered  and  ca- 
ressed, each  by  his  pet  name.  A  good  dinner  around 
the  family  table  was  served  to  each,  and  two  or  three 
of  the  largest  always  slept  in  a  bed  with  some  members 
of  the  family.  The  most  exquisite  tenderness  was 
manifested  lest  the  dear  creatures  should  suffer  cold  or 
hunger.  Yet  this  tender-hearted  Miss,  who  could  not 
9 


194 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


suffer  an  unkind  word  to  fall  upon  the  car  of  her  favor- 
ite pointer,  would  go  into  raptures  of  delight  at  the 
agonies  of  the  timid  hare.  Her  features  seemed  to 
have  acquired  a  sharpness,  her  expression  a  wildncss, 
her  skin  a  brownness,  and  her  whole  appearance  was 
like  a  true  hunter,  living  and  enjoying  the  constant 
pursuit. 

There  is  a  kind  of  enchantment,  a  witchery,  hung 
round  an  open  air  exercise  like  this,  which  the  more  it 
is  practiced  the  more,  it  is  loved,  till  all  that  tends  to 
elevate  the  mind,  and  cultivate  the  best  principles  of 
the  heart  arc  effaced ;  and  it  is  quite  doubtful  whether 
the  subject  of  this  false  pursuit  can  ever  become  truly 
and  substantially  a  valuable  member  of  society. 

But  Croy  Lodge  must  not  be  forgotten.  In  and 
around  it,  upon  the  exciting  sea-shore,  was  much  that 
would  have  given  delight,  had  all  been  as  plentiful 
about  every  hearth  and  table  as  was  around  the  one  at 
which  I  was  sitting.  The  first  Sabbath  after  my  ar- 
rival, a  written  invitation  from  an  officer  of  the  coast- 
guard was  sent  us  to  attend  church  service  across  the 
strand  in  his  watchhouse.  An  open  boat  conveyed  the 
family  and  myself  to  the  thatched  station-house,  where 
in  tasteful  array  were  arranged  officers,  and  all  the  in- 
struments fur  killing,  hanging  in  glistening  order  upon 
the  walls,  while  in  the  midst  of  this  embryo  battle-field 
the  young  curate  from  Belmullet  read  his  prayers  and 
sermon  in  a  most  becoming  manner  ;  and  we  returned 
in  company  with  Mr.  Hamilton,  the  coast-guard  officer, 
who  closed  the  evening  by  reading  and  prayer.  A 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


195 


Sabbath  of  singular  mixture — boating,  prayers,  and 
warlike  paraphernalia,  all  in  the  same  breath  ;  by  min- 
isters, officers,  and  hunters,  all  believing  and  practicing 
these  different  professions.  Religion  is  strangely  stir- 
red up  in  Ireland,  it  makes  a  kind  of  hodge-podge  in 
everything,  and  is  marked  with  little  or  no  distinction 
in  anything. 

Monday,  a  visit  to  Doona  across  the  strand,  intro- 
duced me  to  some  curiosities.  The  tide  was  ebbing, 
and  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  reaching  the  castle 
we  were  to  visit,  we  saw  stumps  of  large  trees,  which 
centuries  ago  must  have  been  a  rich  grove,  though  not 
a  tree  at  present  is  anywhere  on  the  coast,  and  the  sea 
now  occupies  the  entire  lawn,  where  these  once  stood. 
The  family  residing  near  the  castle  are  of  respectable 
lineage,  by  the  name  of  Daly,  and  in  true  Irish  ancient 
style  set  before  us  meat,  bread,  and  potatoes,  the  last 
the  greatest  compliment  that  could  be  paid  to  a  guest. 
The  castle,  Maxwell  says,  was  built  by  Granauile  ;  but 
not  so,  its  whole  structure  is  so  different,  its  walls  so 
much  thicker  than  any  in  the  days  of  Grana's  reign, 
that  its  date  must  have  been  centuries  before.  Its 
history  has  an  incident  which  will  render  it  a  lasting 
name. 

Not  a  century  ago,  the  christening  of  a  farmer's 
child  was  in  progress  one  night  in  a  house  near  by — the 
waiting-boy  was  sent  to  get  a  fresh  supply  of  turf — he 
dropped  his  torch  of  bogwood  among  the  dry  heap, 
which  was  piled  in  the  castle,  which  so  heated  the 
walls  that  they  crackled  and  tumbled,  and  in  their  fall 


196 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


set  fire  to  a  multitude  of  casks  of  contraband  spirits. 
The  explosion  so  frightened  the  jolly  inmates,  that 
they  fled  in  dreadful  terror  from  the  ruins,  and  they 
now  stand  as  that  night's  festival  left  them,  giving  the 
solitary  advantage  of  showing  the  thickness  of  the  walls, 
and  the  curious  construction  of  a  building,  whose  true 
origin  has  not  been  certainly  defined.  Once,  it  was  a 
spot  of  proud  grandeur ;  now  a  heap  of  desolation 
marks  the  whole  for  many  a  mile,  where  gardens  and 
groves  once  were  planted. 

Wednesday  morning,  at  five,  I  took  a  car  for  Ban- 
gor, met  the  mail-coach,  and  went  through  a  cold, 
dreary  country  for  twenty  miles,  to  Crossmolina.  A 
little  cultivation  and  a  few  trees  tell  the  traveler  that 
the  town  is  near.  Six  miles  further  we  reached  the 
hospitable  house  of  Peter  Kelly,  mentioned  in  these 
pages — and  surely  no  character  is  better  deserved  than 
is  his  for  that  excellent  trait ;  and  the  kindness  I  re- 
ceived under  his  roof  never  can  be  forgotten.  Such 
families  should  live  in  the  records  of  history  as  pleas- 
ant mementoes  for  the  grateful,  and  examples  for  the 
parsimonious,  that  if  such  can  be  taught,  they  may 
have  the  benefit  of  using  hospitality  without  grudging. 
The  cheerful  sacrifices  made  in  the  house,  that  I  might 
not  only  stay,  but  be  made  comfortable,  were  so  in  con- 
trast with  the  pinching  and  squeezing  which  often  is 
met  in  families  of  the  "  would-be-thought  hospitable," 
that  surely  it  might  be  said,  that  he  descended  from  a 
generous  stock,  as  instinct  not  cultivation  seemed  en- 
tirely the  spring  of  action  in  him. 


FAMINE   IX   IRELAND.  197 

The  remembrance  of  Ballina  is  "  sweet  and  pleasant 
to  the  soul."  That  "  Codnach  of  gentle  flood/'  the 
sweet  river  Moyne,  that  flows  quietly  and  richly 
through  the  green  meadows  there,  must  leave  pleasant 
associations  in  the  minds  of  all  lovers  of  nature  who 
have  wandered  upon  its  banks.  Though  it  was  in  the 
dark  days  of  the  famine,  in  the  dreary  month  of  Febru- 
ary, that  I  entered  Ballina,  yet  everything  looked  as  if 
men  and  women  of  good  taste  and  good  feeling  dwelt 
there.  It  was  here  that  the  indefatigable  Kincaid  la- 
bored and  died,  in  the  year  1847.  His  simple  tablet 
hangs  in  the  church  where  he  preached ;  but  he  needed 
no  marble  monument,  for  his  name  will  be  held  in  ever- 
lasting remembrance.  M  He  was  eyes  to  the  blind,  and 
the  cause  he  knew  not  he  sought  out."  Free  from 
sectarianism,  he  relieved  all  in  his  power,  and  spoke 
kindly  to  the  bowed  down  ;  he  wiped  the  tear  from  the 
eye  of  the  widow  and  fatherless,  and  brought  joy  and 
gladness  into  the  abodes  of  those  who  were  "  forgotten 
by  their  neighbors. "  He  had  a  co-worker  in  his  la- 
bors of  love,  who  died  a  little  before  the  famine,  in  the 
person  of  Captain  Short.  He  had  been  a  naval  officer  ; 
but  by  the  grace  of  God  had  become  a  follower  of  the 
meek  and  lowly  Jesus,  and  devoted  his  time,  talents, 
and  wealth,  to  the  cause  of  God  and  his  fellow-crea- 
tures. In  their  lives,  these  two,  like  Jonathan  and 
David,  were  united  ;  and  in  their  deaths  they  were  not 
long  divided.  Mr.  Kincaid,  who  was  but  thirty-five, 
left  a  widow,  and  son  and  daughter.  The  widow  is 
worthy  to  bear  his  name.    She  too,  like  him,  is  found 


198 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


among  the  poor,-  promoting  their  temporal  and  spiritual 
good  in  every  possible  way.  In  her  are  united  much 
that  makes  woman  appear  in  that  dignified  light,  that 
tells  for  what  she  is  intended,  and  what  she  might  be, 
if  kept  from  the  trammels  of  a  false  education,  and 
early  brought  into  the  covenant  of  grace. 

I  met  the  widow  of  Captain  Short  in  the  wilds  of 
Erris,  and  her  name  and  remembrance  were  pleasant 
to  my  heart.  In  her  house  in  Ballina  I  passed  happy 
hours.  She  entered  feelingly  into  my  object  in  visiting 
Ireland,  and  it  is  but  just  to  say,  that  though  not  one 
pound  was  then  at  my  command  to  give  in  charity,  yet 
had  thousands  been  in  my  possession  to  bestow,  I  could 
not  have  wished  more  kindness  than  was  manifested  to 
me  then.  Their  courtesy  seemed  to  be  of  the  genuine 
kind  flowing  from  the  heart.  The  town  has  a  popula- 
tion of  ten  thousand  inhabitants,  Episcopalians,  Bap- 
tists, Presbyterians,  Methodists,  and  Roman  Catholics  ; 
the  latter  claiming  the  majority.  The  ladies  here  were 
much  interested  for  the  poor  ;  a  society  for  spinning 
and  knitting  was  in  operation,  and  the  eagerness  of  the 
women  to  procure  work  was  afFectingly  manifested  on 
the  day  of  meeting,  when  crowds  would  be  waiting  in 
the  hall,  some  falling  upon  their  knees,  begging  for 
spinning  to  be  given  them,  when  the  most  that  spinners 
could  earn  would  be  eightpence  a  week.  Those  who 
prepared  the  flax  by  hackeling  could  earn  from  eightcen- 
pence  to  two  shillings  a  week.  So  far  have  manufac- 
tures cheapened  this  work,  that  the  ladies  who  give  it 
lose  at  that  low  price.    The  distress  of  Ballina  was.  in- 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


199 


creasing,  the  poor-law  system  is  impoverishing  all  the 
middle  classes,  who  must  become  paupers,  if  not  beg- 
gars, unless  their  taxes  are  reduced.  No  complaint 
was  made  in  this  place  of  the  partiality  or  neglect  of 
relieving  officers,  all  seemed  to  bless  the  hand  that  fed 
them  ;  and  however  rebellious  the  Connaught  people 
may  be,  no  indications  were  here  given  of  insurrection. 

The  Baptist  minister,  who  is  a  missionary,  stationed 
there,  with  his  praiseworthy  wife  and  children,  has 
been  an  instrument  of  doing  much  good.  Without 
being  a  proselyter,  he  had  gathered  a  church  counting 
nearly  a  hundred,  chiefly  from  the  Romish  population  ; 
his  humble  chapel  stands  open,  the  seats  free  ;  and 
passers-by  often  step  in  from  curiosity,  and  stay  from 
inclination,  till  their  hearts  become  impressed  with  the 
truth,  and  they  are  finally  led  to  unite  in  building  up  a 
church  which  they  once  supposed  was  heresy.  The 
character  of  this  missionary  maybe  told  in  a  few  words 
which  a  lady  in  the  Protestant  church  uttered,  in  an- 
swer to — "  Who  is  the  most  active  laborer  in  town 
among  the  poor'?"  u  Mr.  Hamilton  does  the  most 
good  with  the  least  noise,  of  any  man  among  us." 

A  respectable  banking-house  is  established  in  the 
town,  at  the  head  of  which  is  an  Englishman  ;  his 
active  wife  is  an  Irish  lady.  They  are  friends  to  Ire- 
land, and  not  blind  to  the  causes  of  its  evils. 

It  has  been  remarked,  that  most  of  the  English  who 
reside  in  Ireland  become  quite  attached  to  both  country 
and  people,  prejudices  being  blunted  by  nearer  ac- 
quaintance.   The  six  weeks  of  pleasant  acquaintance 


200 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


there  cultivated,  must  be  exchanged  for  different  scenes. 
This  old  scat  of  kings,  with  its  raths,  stones  of  memo- 
rial, green  meadows,  gentle  flowing  Moyne,  and  abbeys, 
but  above  all  the  people,  courteous  in  manner,  and 
kind  in  action,  must  be  left  forever. 

The  last  day  of  February,  1848,  will  be  remembered 
as  one  that  took  me  reluctantly  away  from  a  town  and 
people  peculiarly  endeared  to  my  heart.  I  was  not 
coldly  hurried  away  to  a  coach  alone,  leaving  the  family 
in  bed  who  had  taken  their  farewell  the  evening  before ; 
Miss  O'Dowda,  Miss  Fox,  and  two  little  daughters  of 
Peter  Kelly  accompanied  me,  and  as  the  high-mettled 
horse  galloped  and  hurried  us  awajT,  I  looked  a  sad 
and  tearful  adieu.  The  sun  was  bright,  the  meadows 
on  the  banks  of  the  Pvloyne  were  green,  and  the  ride 
full  of  interest.  The  same  sun  was  shining,  the  same 
river  flowing — but  where  were  the  proud  kings  with 
their  shields  of  gold  and  warlike  bearing  that  once  held 
their  sway  over  this  pretty  landscape  1  Dead,  dead  ! 
some  moss-covered  stone  in  a  crumbling  castle  or  abbey 
tells  their  demise,  and  the  children  of  the  mountains 
heedlessly  trample  on  the  monument.  The  children, 
yes,  the  children  of  Ireland,  cling  to  my  heart  beyond 
and  over  all  else,  and  when  fond  remembrance  turns  to 
Baliina,  the  courteous,  well-disciplined,  affectionate 
children  of  Peter  Kelly,  sometimes  make  me  regret 
that  I  ever  had  seen  them,  because  I  shall  see  them  no 
more.  The  Irish,  both  in  high  life  and  low,  are  a  pat- 
tern to  all  Christian  nations  in  the  early  training  of 
their  children.    No  visitor  has  cause  to  dread  the  cla- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


201 


mor,  in  a  house,  or  the  confusion  and  breaking  up  of 
all  that  is  comfortable  and  quiet  at  table  in  an  Irish 
family.  They  are  not  first  at  table — first  and  best 
served — monopolizing  all  attention  to  their  own  pam- 
pered palates — selecting  the  most  palatable  food,  &c, 
but  seldom  are  they  present  with  guests,  and  if  so, 
their  demeanor  in  most  cases  is  an  honor  to  the  gov- 
erness and  mother  who  has  disciplined  them.  We 
soon  found  ourselves  on  the  borders  of  the  celebrated 
Ponton  Lakes ;  but  who  shall  describe  them  ?  "  Why," 
said  one  in  Ballina,  u  among  all  the  tourists  who  have 
visited  Ireland,  have  none  more  particularly  described 
these  lakes,  and  the  whole  scenery  ?"  For  this  plain 
reason,  description  must  here  fail.  There  is  so  much 
in  such  varied  confusion  and  beauty,  that  nothing  is 
particularly  marked ;  the  eye  is  lost  in  the  view  as  a 
whole.  Before  the  famine,  I  was  whirled  one  cold  day 
over  the  one-arched  bridge  by  a  surly  coachman,  who, 
in  answer  to  my  inquiries  of  the  picturesque  scenery, 
said,  "  That  it  was  a  divil  of  a  starved  rocky  place, 
and  he  was  glad  when  he  saw  the  end  on't."  The 
lakes  on  this  sunny  day  had  -the  finest  opportunity  to 
set  off  their  transparency  ;  and  for  many  miles  they 
glistened,  widening  and  narrowing,  bordered  by  all 
manner  of  fantastic  rocks  and  heath,  till  we  reached 
the  Ponton  Bridge,  which  passes  over  a  narrow  neck, 
connecting  the  two  lakes.  These  lakes  are  called  Cul- 
len  and  Coma.  The  current  flows  different  ways  in 
the  course  of  the  day,  as  Lough  Cullen  has  no  vent  but 
10  discharge  its  overflowing  waters  into  the  larger  lake. 
9* 


202 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Lord  Lucan  has  built  an  hotel,  police  barracks,  and  a 
few  cottages,  under  the  wooded  rocks  which  overlook 
Lough  Cullen  ;  but  all  seem  quite  deserted  under  Cum- 
mer mountain,  having  only  a  care-taker  to  tell  its  pedi- 
gree. The  rocks  are  thrown  together  upon  one  side,  in 
masses,  as  if  ready  to  fall  asunder  ;  some  lying  at  the 
foot  of  cliffs,  as  if  precipitated  from  them,  and  one  of 
immense  weight  is  poised  upon  a  summit,  by  a  small 
point,  which  to  the  passer-by  appears  as  if  jostling 
ready  to  fall ;  and  we  were  told  that  a  skein  of  silk 
could  be  drawn  between  the  two  rocks.  We  took  the 
road  from  the  lower  lake  to  the  left,  and  followed  the 
tortuous  ravine  till  we  reached  a  small  one-arched 
bridge,  opposite  which  is  a  most  picturesque  barren 
island,  covered  with  heath,  and  a  black  rock,  which 
contrast  beautifully  with  the  blue  water  of  the  lake  ; 
the  wooded  hillocks,  bordering  the  lakes  with  varied 
foot-paths,  give  the  visitor  all  the  advantages  of  pleas- 
ant views  from  their  elevation  upon  the  bold  expanse, 
and  the  rocky  shore  upon  the  other  side. 

In  its  moss-covered  rocks,  and  richly  wooded  hills, 
Ponton  resembles  Glcngariffe,  but  it  wants  the  curling 
smoke  between  the  rocks,  and  the  tree-tops,  ascending 
from  turf  cabins,  and  here  and  there  a  flaxen-headed 
urchin  upon  the  top  of  the  thatch  to  make  the  whole 
picture.  We  wound  along,  meeting  now  and  then  a 
sudden  peep,  through  trees,  on  the  path  which  leads 
three  miles  farther  to  the  once  tasteful  domain  of  Mr. 
Anderson,  which  afterward  I  visited  with  Mrs.  Bourke, 
and  found  the  mansion  desolate,  the  walks  grown  up 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


203 


with  weeds  ;  and  all  the  ancient  grandeur,  which  once 
was  here  displayed,  reminds  one  of  the  old  blasted 
fortunes  of  a  hunter,  who  had  exhausted  his  wine-casks, 
drunk  the  last  health,  and  sounded  the  last  hom  over 
these  broad  lakes,  and  now  tattered  and  slip-shod,  was 
recounting  his  hunting  valor  in  some  shebeen  house, 
where  whisky,  pipes,  and  song  enliven  the  present,  and 
put  out  all  light  of  the  past.  The  declining  sun 
warned  my  friends  that  they  must  return  ;  leaving  me 
to  walk,  or  sit  upon  a  stone,  while  waiting  for  the  coach 
that  was  to  take  me  to  Castlebar.  I  saw  the  last  wave 
of  the  hands  of  the  kind  young  ladies  and  flirting  of 
the  handkerchiefs  of  the  little  Kellys,  as  they  whirled 
around  the  point  which  took  me  from  their  sight.  It 
was  not  a  mawkish  sentimentality  that  made  me  feel 
like  giving  up  the  coming  lonely  hours  to  an  indulgence 
of  weeping.  I  was  alone,  in  a  land  of  strangers,  amid 
famine,  pestilence,  and  death,  going  I  scarcely  knew 
where,  and  could  not  expect  to  find  another  Ballina 
before  me  ;  and  the  last  few  weeks  served  to  heighten 
the  contrast  of  what  had  been  suffered,  and  what  must 
rationally  be  expected  to  await  me.  The  coach  came, 
and  shut  me  in,  and  no  more  was  seen  till  Castlebar 
was  reached.  Here  was  a  town  that  had  tasted  deeply 
the  cup  of  woe  ;  she  had  a  splendid  poorhouse,  and  it 
lacked  no  inmates,  yet  the  streets  were  filled  with  beg- 
gars. Many  beautiful  seats  of  respectable  families  are 
about  the  town,  some  in  tolerable  vigor,  and  some  giv- 
ing the  last  look  upon  former  grandeur.  Some  inter- 
esting facts  are  recorded  of  this  old  assize  town. 


204 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Many  trees  have  borne  on  their  limbs  the  bodies  of 
miserable  culprits  ;  and  now  the  more  genteel  drop  ef- 
fects the  same  work  in  a  different  way. 

March  14th. — Criminal  cases  were  going  forward 
now  in  court,  and  the  attorneys,  Dublin-like,  had  come 
prepared  with  wigs  and  gowns,  for  the  first  time,  a 
practice  heretofore  not  in  vogue  in  Connaught.  The 
ladies  in  Castlebar  were  curious  to  behold  this  novel 
sight,  but  custom  had  prohibited  them  hitherto  from 
appearing  in  these  places.  Two  prisoners  were  to  be 
tried  for  murder  ;  and  wishing  to  know  how  Ireland, 
which  has  been  somewhat  celebrated  for  trials  of  this 
kind,  managed  such  cases,  in  company  with  a  young 
lady  of  the  family,  I  went ;  we  found  a  favorable  posi- 
tion in  the  gallery,  where  we  could  see  the  court  and 
prisoners.  The  case  was  this  : — A  publican  had  be- 
come offended  with  a  neighbor,  and  determined  to  be 
revenged,  by  giving  him  a  good  beating.  Not  wishing 
to  do  it  himself,  he  called  in  two  men,  gave  them  an 
abundance  of  whisky,  and  for  a  few  shillings  they 
agreed  to  do  it  well.  The  man  was  waylaid  at  night- 
fall, and  the  beating  went  on  ;  many  joined  in  the  af- 
fray, some  to  rescue,  and  some  to  assist.  The  man  was 
killed.  The  evidence  went  to  prove  that  one  of  the 
two  gave  a  heavier  blow,  and  he  must  have  finished  the 
work,  consequently  he  was  guilty.  The  attorney, 
Bourke,  made  a  most  able  defence,  and  though  a  Ro- 
man Catholic,  he  dwelt  most  solemnly  on  the  last  grand 
Assize,  when  that  court,  as  well  as  the  prisoners  at  the 
bar,  must  be  judged  by  an  impartial  Judge,  and  con- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


205 


denmed  or  acquitted,  as  their  real  state  should  be 
found.  The  judge  was  celebrated  for  clemency,  and 
gave  a  plain  impressive  charge,  that  if  the  least  doubt 
remained  on  their  minds,  they  must  lean  to  the  side  of 
mercy. 

What  must  have  been  the  conflicting  emotions  of  the 
miserable  men,  when  that  jury  retired!  They  both 
stood  coolly,  as  is  the  peculiar  habit  of  that  impetuous, 
hasty  people,  in  the  face  of  danger  or  death ;  and  the 
jury  soon  returned  with  a  verdict  of  guilty  for  one. 
What  a  fallible  tribunal  is  man !  How  could  a  jury 
decide,  in  a  riot  like  that,  who  was  the  murderer,  and 
how  could  they  decide  that  either  intended  murder  1 
It  appeared  a  haphazard  jump  to  get  rid  of  the  case. 
In  the  evening,  I  was  in  the  company  of  three  of  the 
jury,  and  spoke  of  the  responsibility  of  being  a  juror, 
where  life  and  death  are  concerned.  One  most  exult- 
ingly  responded,  that  he  "  liked  the  responsibility  well, 
and  should  be  glad  to  have  it  in  his  power  to  hang 
every  murderer  he  could  catch  ;  they  deserved  no  mer- 
cy,- and  he  would  never  show  any."  A  second  one  con- 
firmed it,  and  all  manifested  that  lightness  that  was 
horrid  for  men  who  had  just  condemned  a  fellow-crea- 
ture to  the  gallows.  It  is  hoped  these  jurymen  were 
not  a  common  specimen  of  the  class  in  Ireland  ;  if  so, 
life  must  hang  more  on  the  prejudices  and  retaliating 
propensities  of  a  jury,  than  on  the  evidence  or  merits 
of  the  case.  The  poor  man  was  reprieved,  and  trans- 
ported for  life.  The  inhabitants  had  strenuously  ex- 
erted themselves  in  his  behalf,  knowing  that  the  publi- 


200 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


can  was  the  instigator,  and  whisky  the  instrument,  of 
the  murders.  This  "  good  creature "  certainly  has 
some  marks  in  his  forehead  that  look  like  the  "  beast." 

Patriek's-day  was  opened  with  a  little  apprehension 
on  the  part  of  the  people  throughout  the  country. 
u  Conciliation  Hall "  had  given  an  invitation  to  all 
parts,  for  the  people  to  assemble  that  day,  and  send  a 
united  and  earnest  appeal  to  government  for  a  redress 
of  grievances  and  Repeal  of  the  Union,  holding  up 
France  as  an  encouragement  for  action.  The  deplor- 
able state  of  the  country,  the  loss  of  confidence  in  land- 
lords, and  the  abatement  of  the  influence  of  the  priests, 
left  something  to  fear,  that  when  so  many  should  be  as- 
sembled, the  irascible  temper  of  the  nation  would  be 
stirred  up  to  dangerous  acts.  In  Castlebar,  the  people 
collected  had  mass ;  the  priests  exhorted  them  to  be 
quiet ;  and  in  the  evening  the  principal  houses  were 
illuminated.  Boys  assembled,  lit  up  a  tar-barrel,  drew 
it  through  the  streets,  shouting,  "  Hurra  for  the  Re- 
public," while  men  walked  soberly  on,  more  as  if  fol- 
lowing a  hearse  than  if  stimulating  their  countrymen  to 
deeds  of  valor,  or  rejoicing  at  conquest.  The  mirth  of 
the  land  has  emphatically  ceased,  the  spirit  is  broken  ; 
every  effort  at  conviviality  appears  as  if  making  a  last 
struggle  for  life.  The  shamrock  was  sprinkled  here 
and  there  upon  a  hat,  but,  like  its  wearer,  seemed 
drooping,  as  being  conscious  that  its  bloom  was  scathed 
and  its  beauty  dying  forever.  The  deep  disease  in 
this  body  politic  has  never  been  thoroughly  probed, 
and  the  evil  lies  where  probably  it  has  been  least  sus- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


pected.  The  habits  of  the  higher  classes  for  centuries 
have  had  little  tendency  to  enlighten  or  moralize  the 
lower  order,  and  yet,  when  all  is  taken  into  considera- 
tion, drinking  habits  included,  the  scale  must  prepon- 
derate in  favor  of  the  latter. 

Some  respectable  families  in  and  about  Castlebar 
were  doing  to  their  utmost  for  the  poor.  Mr.  Stoney, 
the  rector,  was  employing  many  of  them,  in  spinning, 
but  so  isolated  were  these  efforts,  that  little  could  be 
done  to  stay  the  plague.  Two  miles  from  Castlebar  I 
spent  a  Sabbath  in  the  family  of  the  widow  Fitzgerald, 
relict  of  a  British  officer,  who  was  an  English  lady 
from  the  Isle  of  Wight,  much  attached  to  Ireland. 
Though  the  mother  of  a  numerous  family,  she  draws, 
paints,  and  plays  on  the  piano,  as  in  the  days  of  her 
youth.  Her  spacious  drawing-rooms  are  hung  around 
with  elegant  specimens  of  her  taste  in  painting ;  and 
then  seventy-three  years  of  age  she  appeared  to  have 
lost  none  of  the  vigor  of  intellect  which  she  must  have 
possessed  in  her  youth.  A  son-in-law,  a  meek  be- 
liever, the  Protestant  curate  of  the  parish,  was  resid- 
ing with  her,  and  the  whole  constituted  a  family  of 
love  and  peace,  and  of  the  kindest  feeling  toward  the 
poor. 

An  unexpected  invitation  to  visit  the  parish  of  Par- 
tra,  by  the  active  Catholic  curate,  who  resided  there, 
was  accepted.  "  You  will  find  him,"  a  Protestant 
gentleman  remarked,  "  an  active,  honorable  man 
among  the  poor,  and  one  who  has  clone  much  good." 
The  country  about  him  scarcely  had  a  parallel,  even  in 


208 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Skibberccn.  "Eleven  miles  from  Castlcbar  opened  a 
bright  spot  of  taste — a  glebe-house  and  tidy  new  chapel, 
which  this  indefatigable  curate  had  built,  in  spite  of  all 
poverty.  In  the  chapel  were  a  few  half-dead  children 
huddled  upon  the  floor,  some  around  the  altar,  with 
their  writing-books  upon  the  steps  for  desks,  without 
table  or  benches.  These  the  curate  had  gathered 
among  the  starving,  for  the  sake  of  the  black  bread, 
which  Jtcpt  them  barely  alive.  The  neighborhood 
abounds  in  novelties,  strange  and  romantic,  but  most  of 
them  must  be  passed  over,  to  leave  room  for  details  of 
the  people.  This  indefatigable  man  had  caused  a  fever 
shed  to  be  erected,  on  a  bog  bordering  upon  the  Lake 
of  Musk,  where  pure  air  is  circulating,  and  a  snug 
cottage  stands  near,  in  which  the  matron  who  keeps  the 
hospital  resides.  Thirty  invalids  were  here,  mostly 
sick  from  the  effects  of  hunger,  with  swollen  legs,  many 
of  them  past  all  hope.  Far  away  from  any  inhabitant, 
this  hospital,  cottage,  and  their  inmates  stood,  strug- 
gling to  keep  up  the  dying  flame  of  life,  only  to  suffer 
fresh  and  hopeless  troubles.  Solitary  as  this  region 
everywhere  is,  it  was  once  celebrated  ground.  That 
day's  excursion  to  me  was  full  of  strange  scenes  and 
strange  anecdotes.  Here  stood  the  stone  raised  in 
memory  of  the  death  of  John,  the  "  priest  killer 
here  is  the  site  of  an  ancient  abbey,  but  twelve  feet 
wide  ;  here,  on  the  borders  of  the  lake,  is  an  anvil  be- 
longing to  a  forge,  which  is  of  such  weight  that  it  has 
never  been  raised  from  the  bed  into  which  it  has  sunk, 
and  where  it  is  supposed  to  have  lain  for  centuries. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


209 


An  iron  ore-bed  is  near  the  spot,  as  useless  as  all  ma- 
terials for  improvement  are  in  Ireland. 

This  parish  borders  on  the  famous  Joyce  country,  and 
is  replete  with  interest,  where  in  days  of  yore  robbers 
and  murderers  sported  at  will.  A  noted  robber,  by 
the  name  of  Mitchell,  was  taken  in  a  house  pointed 
out,  now  in  a  crumbling  state,  but  then  occupied  by  a 
Landlord  who  entertained  the  mountain  robber,  and  had 
even  bargained  away  his  daughter  to  this  desperado. 
A  handsome  reward  was  offered  to  secure  this  fearful 
prowler,  and  the  landlord,  in  spite  of  family  relation 
or  treaty,  determined  to  make  sure  the  prize.  One 
night,  when  Mitchell,  overcome  with  a  mountain  ex- 
cursion of  plunder,  had  gone  to  sleep  with  his  pistols 
near  him,  the  landlord  wetted  the  pans,  went  out  and 
took  in  the  magistrates  to  Mitchell's  bed,  who  was  still 
asleep,  but  soon  awaked — seized  his  pistols — they  re- 
fused to  act.  He  was  secured,  bound,  and  finally  ex- 
ecuted. 

-  On  the  route  this  day,  among  all  the  rarities,  was 
the  christening  of  an  infant  in  a  miserable  dark  cabin 
by  this  priest,  which  he  assured  me  was  the  only 
birth  he  had  known  for  months.  May  I  never  see 
the  like  again !  The  dark  mud  cabin — the  straw  on 
which  the  mother  lay — the  haggard  countenances  of  the 
starving  group — the  wooden  bowl  of  "  holy  water" — 
the  plate  of  salt — the  mummery  of  the  priest,  while 
he  was  putting  the  salt  of  grace  to  its  lips,  the  blowing 
with  his  breath  to  infuse  the  regenerating  spirit  into 
the  soul,  were  such  a  trifling,  fearful  combination  of 


210 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


nonsense  and  profanity  to  my  dark  mind,  that  it  was 
quite  difficult  to  keep  a  usual  degree  of  sobriety,  but  the 
priest  escaped  with  no  other  lecture  than  an  exclama- 
tion of  nonsense,  when  we  were  out  of  the  cabin.  To 
do  these  poor  priests  justice,  they  have  labored  long 
and  hard  since  the  famine,  and  have  suffered  intensely. 
They  have  the  most  trying  difficulties  to  encounter, 
without  the  least  remuneration.  In  the  best  of  times, 
their  stipulated  sum  is  but  ten  pounds  a  year,  the  re- 
mainder must  be  made  up  by  "  hook  and  by  crook." 
Weddings  and  christenings  formerly  gave  what  the  ge- 
nerosity of  guests  could  bestow,  which  was  always  so 
small,  that  a  Protestant  lady  once,  from  pure  benevo- 
lence, attended  one  of  these  cabin-weddings  in  the  poor 
parts  of  the  country,  and  put  four  pounds  into  the  plate 
as  it  was  passed  round.  She  said  the  priest  was  a  peace- 
able citizen,  very  poor  and  very  kind,  and  why  should 
she  not  give  this,  which  she  could  spare,  and  he  need- 
ed. In  the  famine,  night  and  day,  their  services  were 
requisite,  no  fevers  nor  loathsome  dens,  nor  even  caves 
could  exonerate  them,  they  must  go  whenever  called, 
and  this  without  any  remuneration.  One  day's  excur- 
sion will  better  illustrate  this  fact,  than  general  remarks 
can.  I  went  to  a  spot  on  purpose  to  see  for  myself, 
and  that  day  asked  the  priest  to  show  me  the  most  that 
he  could  of  the  realities  of  the  famine,  and  soon  I  was 
gratified  :  the  sight  was  too  much,  and  in  a  few  hours 
my  way  was  made  back  in  the  rain  over  the  fearful 
waste  alone  to  the  glebe-house.  We  were  soon  met  by 
applicants  of  all  description  begging  on  their  knees, 


FAMINE   n   IRELAND.  211 

clinging  fast  to  the  poor  man,  begging  for  God's  sake 
that  he  would  give  them  letters  to  the  relieving  officer 
for  the  pound  of  meal,  asking  advice  how  and  what  to 
do,  when  they  had  pulled  down  their  cabins  and  had  no 
shelter ;  the  rain  was  falling,  the  roads  bad,  and  the 
multitude  so  increased  as  we  proceeded  that  it  was 
very  difficult  to  make  our  way.  He  told  them,  they 
must  let  me  pass  decently  as  a  stranger,  who  had  come 
oat  feo  nee  them  through  pity,  and  kindly  added,  **  \  M 
know  I  would  relieve  you,  but  cannot."  Not  one  im- 
patient word  ever  escaped  him  through  the  whole,  al- 
though their  unreasonable  importunities  were  dreadfully 
tormenting.  I  had  heard  so  many  relieving  officers  and 
distributors  scold  and  threaten,  and  had  struggled  so 
hard  myself  to  keep  ratiiat  withooi  always  succeed- 
ing, taat  I  inquired  how  he  kept  without  se  ::-iing.  His 
aas^er  was,  **  Sure,  as  I  can  give  them  no  money,  I 
should  give  them  kind  words.*'  Here  were  cabins 
torn  down  in  heaps,  and  here  were  the  poor  wretched 
starving  women  and  children,  crawling  together  by  the 
side  of  ditch :-s.  or  in  some  cabin  still  standing,  to  get 
Aeliiei  from  the  rain,  scattered  too,  over  a  wide  extent 
of  country.  M  What  shall  I  do  nid  tihe  despairing 
priest ;  "  let  me  die  rather  than  witness  daily  such 
scenes  as  I  cannot  relieve.'7  I  left  him  to  go  farther 
into  the  mountains,  where  some  of  the  dying  had  sent 
for  him,  and  ascended  a  little  eminence  alone,  and  saw 
the  smoke  of  the  humble  abode  of  the  parish  priest, 
\y  the  name  of  Ward,  and  all  without  and  within  gave 
proof,  that  if  he  had  lived  for  gain,  he  had  missed  the 


212 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


road  thither.  ■  He  was  a  simple-minded  priest  of  the 
old  school  of  Ireland,  and  had  added  no  new-fangled 
notions  of  modern  style,  and  welcomed  me  to  his  house 
like  an  old  patriarch  of  four  thousand  years  ago ;  the 
poor  found  in  him  a  friend  whose  warm  heart  and  open 
hand  always  were  ready  to  give,  so  long  as  he  had  any- 
thing to  bestow.  Thirteen  hundred  of  his  parishioners 
had  died  in  Partra  of  the  famine  in  twelve  months,  out 
of  a  population  of  six  thousand.  I  returned  home  with 
benediction  added  to  blessing  upon  my  head,  for  hav- 
ing come  to  visit  so  poor  and  so  neglected  a  people  as 
his  in  those  desolate  mountains.  The  curate  did  not 
reach  home  till  late  in  the  evening  drenched  with  rain ; 
he  had  left  without  shelter  a  dying  man,  with  his  wife 
and  daughter  standing  by,  and  giving  them  the  last  six- 
pence, he  had  returned,  for  he  could  do  nothing  more. 
At  the  dawning  of  day  the  daughter  stood  at  his  win- 
dow, saying  her  father  was  dead,  and  begged  that  he 
would  go  and  do  something  to  assist  in  putting  him 
away  from  the  dogs  ! 

Thursday,  April  13th. — A  drive  to  Balinrobe  pre- 
sented a  beautiful  variety  of  scenery.  Lake  Carra  is 
spread  out,  dotted  with  islands,  and  indented  by  penin- 
sulas, with  a  long  bridge  across  it,  called  Keel,  inferior 
to  none  but  Ponton,  three  miles  from  the  glebe,  and  we 
were  in  sight  of  the  tall  steeple  of  the  chapel,  towering 
presumptuously  for  so  unpopular  a  religion ;  for  time 
was  when  the  Romish  church  was  not  allowed  steeples 
of  any  dimensions,  and  they  now  make  no  great  preten- 
sions in  the  steeple  way. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  213 

The  town  of  Balinrobe  is  somewhat  picturesque,  and 
was  once  the  assize  town  of  Mayo  ;  but  the  judges  saw 
fit  to  remove  it  to  Castlebar ;  and  report  says,  that 
some  trifling  complaint  concerning  bakers  and  cooks 
was  the  cause  ;  but  the  town  still  boasts  a  famous 
poorhouse,  well  filled,  a  proud  barrack,  with  a  noble 
supply  of  the  fighting  gentry,  placed  there,  as  we  are 
told,  to  make  up  for  the  removal  of  the  assizes.  A 
beautiful  river,  bordered  with  trees,  winds  through  the 
town,  occasionally  a  pretty  cottage  peeping  between 
them,  with  two  ivy-covered  ancient  ruins,  among  tomb- 
stones and  naked  skulls,  with  inscriptions  of  such  an- 
cient date,  that  time  had  worn  them  so  that  they  were 
almost  entirely  defaced. 

An  invitation  to  dine  at  Dr.  Rafe's,  introduced  me 
to  a  lady,  in  Mrs.  Rafe,  who  might  justly  be  classed 
among  intellects  and  attainments  of  the  highest  order  ; 
I  had  seen  many  well-bred  ladies  in  Connaught,  but 
not  one  who  was  better  acquainted  with  books,  and 
who  could  converse  on  something  beyond  small  talk 
with  greater  facility  and  understanding  than  Mrs. 
Rafe. 

From  Balinrobe,  the  famous  Cong  was  visited,  known 
as  containing  so  many  natural  curiosities  and  ancient 
historical  events.  The  abbey  here  is  one  of  great  in- 
terest, large,  and  designed  with  exquisite  carvings,  and 
beautiful  arches  of  doors  and  windows.  The  niches 
arc  entirely  filled  with  bones.  Here  is  interred  the 
famous  Roderic  O'Connor,  among  the  neglected  rub- 
bish ;  and  priests  and  people  in  one  confused  mass, 


214 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


mingling  their  dust  among  peasants  and  beggars.  But 
the  beauty  of  Cong  is,  that  ordained  by  nature  ;  the 
river,  and  green  meadow,  and  hillock,  where  stands  a 
most  enchanting  lodge,  backed  with  wood,  which  is 
seen  with  great  advantage  from  the  top  of  a  hill  upon 
the  opposite  side,  which  every  tourist  should  be  mind- 
ful to  ascend. 

The  lake,  the  town,  the  church  standing  in  the  walls 
of  the  old  abbey,  the  river,  lodge,  and  wood  in  front,  a 
promonotory  of  the  brightest  green  ;  and,  as  a  finish, 
the  pier,  containing  some  of  the  choicest  stones  of  the 
abbey  carved  with  hieroglyphics,  give  to  the  whole  pic- 
ture a  view  beautiful  and  novel  in  the  extreme.  The 
"  Horse  Discovery,"  is  a  chasm  into  which  a  horse 
plunged  when  plowing.  The  chasm  is  now  descended 
by  artificial  stone  steps,  and  standing  upon  the  bottom, 
the  water  is  seen  sparkling  far  back  and  murmuring  at 
your  feet  in  darkness.  Spars  are  hanging  from  the 
roof,  and  the  aperture  above  is  fringed  with  vines  and 
ivy,  giving  a  somber  look  to  the  whole. 

The  "  Lady's  Buttery,"  comes  next ;  this  is  a  shelv- 
ing rock,  covered  with  grass  and  shrubbery,  under 
which  flows  the  river  Al,  somewhat  rapidly,  and  is  lost 
in  the  lake  some  quarter  of  a  mile  below. 

The  u  Pigeon  Hole"  is  the  lion  of  Cong;  it  is  so 
called  because  pigeons  are  wont  to  make  nests  in  the 
dome.  This  hole  is  descended  by  forty-two  stone  steps, 
quite  steep,  and  at  the  bottom  is  the  river  that  runs 
through  the  "  Buttery,"  flowing  most  cheerfully  here, 
and  forming  a  little  eddy  in  which  fish  are  -sporting. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


215 


These  caused  great  excitement  among  the  troop  that 
had  followed  us,  a  legend  being  told,  that  the  fish  in 
this  pool  had  lived  there  ever  since  its  discovery,  with- 
out multiplying  or  decreasing ;  these  patriarchs  conse- 
quently are  of  very  ancient  date  ;  and  a  young  lad  told 
us  that  one  of  these  fathers  had  been  caught,  and  put 
upon  a  gridiron  to  broil,  but  made  his  escape  into  the 
water,  and  has  now  the  marks  upon  his  ribs,  so  that 
from  age  to  age  he  has  been  traced  ;  but  he  can  never 
be  caught,  nor  can  any  of  his  comrades  be  induced  to 
nibble  a  bait.  The  fish  had  not  been  seen  for  a  long 
time,  and  the  company  and  curate  were  highly  rejoiced 
that  these  black  gentlemen  should  come  out  to  salute 
us.  The  river  after  passing  this  eddy  flows  rapidly 
through  a  fearful  cavern,  arched  over  with  black  stones, 
many  of  which  seem  to  have  tumbled  down,  and  lay 
piled  along  through  the  dark  chamber  ;  an  old  woman, 
for  many  a  year,  had  been  the  keeper  of  this  cavern, 
and  with  a  bundle  of  dried  rushes  lighted,  she  led  the 
visitors  on,  showing  a  lofty  ceiling  of  stone,  cut  in  the 
most  fantastical  shapes.  The  fearful  slippery  passage, 
over  slimy  and  uneven  rocks  tumbled  and  piled  to- 
gether, the  music  of  the  water  hastening  away  to  hide 
itself  under  the  earth  again,  the  grand  dome  of  black 
stone,  and  the  graceful  curtains  of  the  ivy  hanging  and 
swinging  at  ease,  all  lighted  up  by  the  glaring  torch, 
made  an  underground  picture  sublime,  terrific,  and 
beautiful  in  the  extreme.  This  profitable  estate  is 
now  in  possession  of  the  granddaughter  of  the  lately 
deceased  inheritor  ;  and  the  elasticity  of  the  young 


210 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


damsel  testified  to  her  full  confidence  in  her  own  pow- 
ers, as  well  as  hopes  of  a  fortune  in  the  end.  The  en- 
virons of  Cong  contain  a  quantity  of  black  stone  which 
is  much  used  in  building,  covering  the  ground  in  layers, 
through  the  fields  about  the  town. 

A  dinner  was  in  waiting  at  Dr.  Rafe's,  and  no  one 
could  have  thought,  when  looking  upon  the  table, 
that  famine  was  raging  without.  On  a  beautiful  site 
at  Balinrobc,  this  indefatigable  priest  has  leased  a 
piece  of  thirty  acres  of  land,  -  at  one  shilling  per  acre, 
where  he  intends  building  a  monastery  for  nuns  and 
children  of  the  poor.  A  curious  stone  stands  upon  the 
spot,  and  no  manuscript  has  yet  told  its  pedigree  ;  but 
its  lofty  upright  bearing  says  it  is  of  noble  origin. 

The  industry  of  this  curate  appears,  if  not  super- 
natural, urged  on  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  almost  un- 
paralleled. Shall  it  be  credited,  that  in  thirteen  weeks 
he  converted  a  barren  spot  into  a  fine  site  for  a  chapel 
and  glebe -house.  After  demolishing  the  old  chapel,  he 
built  and  finished  them  both  in  excellent  taste.  The 
wall,  which  surrounds  a  large  handsome  lawn  before 
the  house,  is  built  of  stone,  which  was  quarried  in  one 
day,  and  the  whole  completed  in  three  hours.  The 
entire  parish  were  invited  to  the  chapel  to  hear  mass 
at  nine  o'clock  ;  then  all  were  encouraged  with  having 
music  and  amusement  to  their  hearts'  content  when 
the  work  should  be  finished.  Eight  hundred  assembled. 
The  curate  assigned  a  certain  portion  to  be  erected  by 
so  many,  and  thus  confusion  was  prevented — the  work 
went  orderly  on.    And  this  three  hours'  labor  com- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


217 


pleted  a  wall  inclosing  the  chapel  and  glebe-house, 
fringed  upon  the  top  in  front  with  a  peculiar  kind  of 
stone  from  the  lake,  which  is  jagged,  porous,  and  black, 
and  when  struck,  gives  a  sound  like  iron.  The  wall  is 
whitewashed,  the  stones  upon  the  top  left  black,  adding 
an  air  of  ornament  to  the  whole.  A  young  shrubbery 
is  already  looking  up  in  the  door-yard,  giving  to  the  lately 
barren  waste  bog  an  appearance  "  like  a  young  garden, 
fresh  and  green." 

These  people,  called  Roman  Catholics,  certainly 
must  astonish  the  Orthodox  world  by  their  untiring  zeal 
for  the  good  of  the  church  in  Ireland.  With  every- 
thing to  oppose,  they  urge  on  their  way ;  a  govern- 
ment church  forcing  upon  them  restrictive  laws  very 
severe,  and  a  laboring  class  of  real  paupers  ;  with  these 
drawbacks  they  build  chapels,  finish  them  well,  and 
6i  through  evil  and  through  good  report,"  nakedness  and 
famine,  they  urge  their  way,  erecting  chapels  in  the 
midst  almost  of  hetacombs  of  the  slain  !  The  curate  was 
asked  where  he  got  money  for  all  this  ;  "  Money  was 
not  wanted,"  was  the  answer.  Seventy  carts  were  in 
train  drawing  the  stone  when  cut  from  the  quarry. 
The  stone  was  free — labor  was  free — and  every  parish- 
ioner performed  his  part  cheerfully.  The  little  money 
that  was  required  for  the  trimmings  the  bishop  sup- 
plied. The  coarse  trite  saying  of  John  Bunyan's  im- 
prisonment may  be  fitly  applied  to  the  government 
church  in  Ireland.  A  writer  remarks,  that  "  the  devil 
run  himself  out  in  his  own  shoes  when  he  put  John 
Banyan  in  jail." 

10 


218 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


The  curate  shall  be  dismissed  after  one  more  allu- 
sion to  his  ever-awake  zeal  in  all  and  everything.  The 
poorhouse  in  Balinrobe  did  not  exactly  suit  his  notions 
of  justice  to  the  inmates.  He  called  upon  the  guard- 
ians and  apprised  them  that  a  fearless  scrutinizing 
friend  to  the  poor,  from  the  United  States,  was  visiting 
all  the  "  soup-shops  "  and  "workhouses"  in  Ireland, 
and  was  "  showing  up  "  the  dishonesty  practiced  among 
them,  by  taking  notes,  which  were  printed  for  the  in- 
formation of  government.  Not  suspecting  that  my 
name  had  gone  before,  in  the  innocence  of  my  heart  my 
way  was  made  thither,  and  I  was  happily  disappointed 
at  finding  the  house  in  such  excellent  order,  officers  and 
servants  were  all  at  their  posts,  and  everything  done  to 
make  the  visit  most  agreeable,  yet  there  was  such  an 
appearance  of  affectation  in  the  whole  that  thoughts  did 
arise  whether  in  reality  all  was  so.  The  purloining  of 
the  public  benefactions  since  the  famine,  has  given  so 
much  cause  for  suspicion,  that  all  whose  hands  are  not 
thoroughly  clean,  shrink  from  observation. 

The  guardians  of  the  poor  in  Ireland  will  have  a  sad 
account  to  render  at  the  last,  in  many  cases,  it  is  great- 
ly to  be  feared.  Feeding  the  poor  on  two  scanty  meals 
of  miserable  food,  when  there  arc  funds  sufficient,  has 
been  the  accusation  which  has  proved  too  true  in  many 
parts,  and  has  operated  so  powerfully  upon  the  inmates, 
that  when  once  out  they  have  chosen  death  out-of-doors 
rather  than  going  in  again. 

I  found  some  few  hungry  men  on  my  way  putting  a 
few  potatoes  in  a  field,  and  inquired  why  they  should 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


219 


lose  their  potatoes  and  their  time  in  this  hopeless  un- 
dertaking q.  The  answer  was,  "  Plaise  God  we'll  have 
the  potato  again."  The  "potato  again,"  is  the  last 
wreck  to  which  they  are  still  clinging. 

April  17th. — With  a  sister  of  Peter  Kelly,  I  went 
to  "  Old  Head,"  and  was  first  introduced  into  one  of 
the  dreadful  pauper  schools,  where  ninety  children  re- 
ceived a  piece  of  black  bread  once  a-day.  It  was  a 
sad  sight,  most  of  them  were  m  a  state  of  rags,  bare- 
footed, and  squatted  on  the  floor,  waiting  for  a  few 
ounces  of  bread,  with  but  here  and  there  a  fragment  of 
a  book.  The  clean  schoolmaster,  on  a  cold  day,  was 
clad  in  a  white  vest  and  linen  pantaloons,  making  the 
last  effort  to  appear  respectable,  laboring  for  the  re- 
muneration of  a  penny  a  week  from  each  family,  if  by 
chance  the  family  could  furnish  it.  These  ninety  all 
belonged  to  Mrs.  Garvey's  tenantry,  and  there  were 
others  looking  on  who  had  come  in  likewise,  not  be- 
longing to  her  lands,  who  wishfully  stood  by,  without 
receiving  one  morsel.  I  looked  till  my  satiated  eyes 
turned  away  at  a  pitiful  sight  like  this.  Neither  the 
neat  cottage,  the  old  sea,  nor  my  favorite  Croagh  Pat- 
rick, could  give  satisfaction  in  a  wilderness  of  woe  like 
this.    When  will  these  dreadful  scenes  find  an  end  1 

Naught  but  desolation  and  death  reigned ;  and  the 
voice  of  nature,  which  was  always  so  pleasant  on  the 
sea-coast,  now,  united  with  the  whistling  of  the  wind, 
seemed  only  to  be  howling  in  sad  response  to  the  moans 
and  entreaties  of  the  starving  around  me.  The  "  holy 
well,"  where  the  inimitable  drawing  of  the  blind  girl 


220 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


was  taken,  is  noar  this  place.  In  years  gone  by  this 
well  was  a  frequented  spot,  where  invalids  went  to  be 
healed.  It  is  now  surrounded  by  stone,  covered  with 
earth,  and  a  path  about  gives  the  trodden  impress  of 
many  a  knee,  where  the  postulant  goes  round  seven 
times,  repeating  a  "  Paternoster  "  at  every  revolution, 
and  drops  a  stone,  which  tells  that  the  duty  is  per- 
formed. A  hole  is  shown  in  a  stone,  where  the  holy 
St.  Patrick  knelt  till  he  wore  the  stone  away.  A  poor 
peasant  girl,  in  the  simplicity  of  her  heart,  explained 
all  the  ceremonies  of  the  devotees  and  virtues  of  the 
well,  regretting  that  the  priests  had  forbidden  the  prac- 
tice now.  A  company  soon  entered  the  church-yard 
and  set  down  a  white  coffin,  waiting  till  the  widow  of 
the  deceased  should  bring  a  spade  to  open  the  grave  ; 
and  while  the  dirt  was  being  taken  away  she  sat  down, 
leaning  upon  the  coffin,  setting  up  the  Irish  wail  in  the 
most  pathetic  manner  ;  she,  by  snatches,  rehearsed  his 
good  qualities,  then  burst  into  a  gush  of  tears,  then 
commenced  in  Irish,  as  the  meager  English  has  no 
words  to  express  the  height  of  grief,  madness,  or  joy. 
The  ground  was  opened  but  a  few  inches  when  the  cof- 
fin of  another  was  touched.  The  grave-yards  are 
everywhere  filled  so  near  the  surface  that  dogs  have 
access,  and  some  parts  of  the  body  are  often  exposed. 

A  debate  was  now  in  progress  respecting  good  works 
and  the  importance  of  being  baptized  into  the  true 
church.  Mrs.  G.,  who  professed  to  be  a  papist,  dis- 
puted the  ground  with  them,  till  the  contest  became  so 
sharp  that  I  retired,  for  their  darkness  was  painful ;  it 


FAMINE   EN  IRELAND. 


221 


seemed  like  the  valley  and  shadow  of  death,  temporally 
and  spiritually. 

The  little  town  of  Louisburgh,  two  miles  from  "  Old 
Head,"  had  suffered  extremely.  An  active  priest  and 
faithful  Protestant  curate  were  doing  their  utmost  to 
mitigate  the  suffering,  which  was  like  throwing  dust  in 
the  wind ;  lost,  lost  forever — the  work  of  death  goes 
on,  and  what  is  repaired  to-day  is  broken  down  to- 
morrow. Many  have  fallen  under  their  labors.  The 
graves  of  the  Protestant  curate  and  his  wife  were 
pointed  out  to  me  in  the  church-yard,  who  had  fallen 
since  the  famine,  in  the  excess  of  their  labor ;  and  the 
present  curate  and  his  praiseworthy  wife,  unless  they 
have  supernatural  strength,  cannot  long  keep  up  the 
dreadful  struggle.  He  employed  as  many  laborers  as 
he  could  pay,  at  fourpence  a -day,  and  at  four  o'clock, 
these  "lazy  "  ones  would  often  be  waiting  at  his  gate 
to  go  to  their  work.  He  was  one  day  found  dining 
with  the  priest,  and  the  thing  was  so  novel,  that  I  ex- 
pressed a  pleasant  surprise,  when  he  answered,  "  I 
have  consulted  no  one's  opinion  respecting  the  propriety 
of  my  doing  so  ;  I  found,"  he  added,  "  on  coming  here, 
this  man  a  warm-hearted  friend  to  the  poor,  doing  all  the 
good  in  his  power,  without  any  regard  to  party,  and  de- 
termined to  treat  him  as  a  neighbor  and  friend,  and  have 
as  yet  seen  no  cause  to  regret  it."  This  same  priest 
was  not  able  to  walk,  having  been  sick,  but  he  was  con- 
veyed in  a  carriage  to  Mrs.  Garvey's,  and  most  cour- 
teously thanked  me  for  coming  into  that  miserable 
neighborhood,  and  offered  to  provide  some  one,  at  his 


222 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


own  expense,  to  convey  me  into  the  Killeiy  mountains, 
to  see  the  inimitable  scenery,  and  the  wretched  inhab- 
itants that  dwell  there.  In  company  with  the  wife  of 
the  curate,  and  the  physician,  I  went  there.  The 
morning  was  unusually  sunny,  but  the  horrors  of  that 
day  were  inferior  to  none  ever  witnessed.  The  road 
was  rough,  and  we  constantly  were  meeting  pale,  mea- 
ger-looking men,  who  were  on  their  way  from  the  moun- 
tains to  break  stones,  and  pile  them  mountain-high,  for 
the  paltry  compensation  of  a  pound  of  meal  a-day  ; 
these  men  had  put  all  their  seed  into  the  ground,  and  if 
they  gave  up  their  cabins,  they  must  leave  the  crop  for 
the  landlord  to  reap,  while  they  must  be  in  a  poorhouse 
or  in  the  open  air.  This  appeared  to  be  the  last  bitter 
drug  in  Ireland's  cup  of  woe  !  "  Why,"  a  poor  man 
was  asked,  whom  we  met  dragging  sea-weed  to  put 
upon  his  potato  field,  "  do  you  do  this,  when  you  tell  us 
you  expect  to  go  into  the  poorhouse,  and  leave  your 
crop  to  another  ?"  "I  put  it  on,  hoping  that  God  Al- 
mighty will  send  me  the  work  to  get  a  bit." 

We  met  flocks  of  wretched  children  going  to  school 
for  the  "  bit  of  bread,"  some  crying  with  hunger,  and 
some  begging  to  get  in  without  the  penny  which  was 
required  for  their  tuition.  The  poor  little  emaciated 
creatures  went  weeping  away,  one  saying  he  had  been 
"  looking  for  the  penny  all  day  yesterday,  and  could 
not  get  it."  The  doctor  who  accompanied  us  returned 
to  report  to  the  priest  the  cruelty  of  the  relieving  offi- 
cer and  teacher,  but  this  neither  frightened  or  softened 
these  hard  hearts.    These  people  are  shut  in  by  moun- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


223 


tains  and  the  sea  on  one  side,  and  roads  passable  only 
on  foot  by  the  other,  having  no  bridges,  and  the  paths 
entirely  lost  in  some  places  among  the  stones.  We 
left  our  carriage,  and  walked  as  we  could  ;  and  though 
we  met  multitudes  in  the  last  stages  of  suffering,  yet 
not  one  through  that  day  asked  charity,  and  in  one  case 
the  common  hospitality  showed  itself,  by  offering  us 
milk  when  we  asked  for  water.  This  day  I  saw  enough, 
and  my  heart  was  sick — sick.  The  next  morning,  the 
Protestant  curate  wished  me  to  go  early  to  the  field, 
and  see  the  willing  laborers  in  his  employ.  He  called 
one  to  the  hedge,  and  asked  if  he  had  the  potatoes  in 
his  pocket  which  he  had  gathered  some  days  ago.  The 
man  took  out  a  handful  of  small  ones.  "  These,"  said 
the  curate  (the  tear  starting  to  his  eye),  "  are  what  this 
man  found  in  spading  up  the  ground  here  ;  and  so  little 
have  his  family  to  eat  at  home,  that  he  has  carried 
them  in  his  pocket,  till  he  can  find  some  little  spot 
where  he  may  plant  them,  lest  if  he  should  leave  them 
in  the  cabin,  they  would  be  eaten."  This  man  had 
a  family  of  four  to  support  on  the  fourpence  earned  in 
that  field. 

One  interesting  and  last  excursion  ended  my  painful 
visit  in  this  romantic  desolate  region.  The  company 
was  made  up  of  Mrs.  Garvey,  a  cousin  of  hers  of  the 
same  name,  a  widow  who  possessed  land  in  these  vales 
and  mountains  for  four  miles,  and  her  two  sons.  The 
distance  was  eight  miles,  the  road  narrow,  winding, 
rocky,  and  in  some  places  entirely  lost,  excepting  the 
foot-path  of  the  shepherds.    Our  vehicle  was  a  cart 


224 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


with  a  bed  in"  it  for  the  accommodation  of  the  two 
ladies,  who  had  never  like  me  been  jolted  on  this  wise, 
and  were  now  submitting  to  all  this  hardship  for  my 
amusement.  With  much  fixing  and  re-fixing,  order- 
ing and  re-ordering,  bed,  baskets  of  lunch,  extra  cloaks, 
and  so  on,  all  adjusted,  we  were  "well  under  way  " 
for  these  "  Alps  on  Alps."  We  had  not  made  more 
than  two  miles  of  this  journey,  when  stones,  brooks, 
and  no  road  said  "  Ye  can  go  no  further."  We  did, 
by  getting  out  and  lifting  the  cart,  and  at  length  found 
ourselves  in  a  flat  vale  with  a  pretty  river  flowing 
through  it.  Scattered  here  and  there  were  the  once 
comfortable  cabins  of  the  tenants  of  the  last-named 
Mrs.  G.,  now  every  cabin  either  deserted  or  suffering 
in  silent  hopelessness,  and  all  the  land  lying  waste. 

The  poor  cabiners  would  meet  us,  and  say  to  their 
landlady,  "  God  bless  ye,  and  once  ye  didn't  see  us 
so,  but  now  we  arc  all  destrawed."  "  And  how,  Mary 
or  Bridget,  do  you  get  on  ? — have  you  any  meal  ? — and 
I  am  sorry  that  I  couldn't  send  you  any  more,"  &c, 
were  the  salutations  of  this  kind  landlady,  who  had 
not  received  one  pound  of  rent  since  the  famine.  I 
thanked  her  most  gratefully  for  the  favor  she  bestowed 
on  me  in  keeping  from  my  ears  those  heart-scathing 
words  to  the  starving  poor  I  had  heard  so  much  from 
landlords  and  relieving  officers  during  the  famine.  "  I 
could  not  upbraid  them,"  she  answered,  "for  until  the 
famine,  scarcely  a  pound  of  rent  has  been  lost  by  them 
all ;  and  my  only  sorrow  is,  that  I  can  do  nothing  to 
keep  them  alive,  and  not  lose  them  from  the  land." 


FAMINE  IN   IRELAND.  225 

Four  miles  took  us  to  the  foot  of  a  pile  of  "  Alps,"  at 
the  bottom  of  which  was  sleeping  a  sweet  lake,  cra- 
dling in  its  bosom  a  little  green  shrubbery  island,  the 
habitation  of  wild  fowl  entirely.  The  precipitous 
rocky  path  made  it  impossible  to  use  the  cart,  and  our 
crushed  clumsy  feet  were  now  put  in  requisition. 
Though  our  walk  was  a  rugged  one,  yet  we  were  not 
losers  ;  for  Ireland,  above  all  other  countries  probably, 
should  be  visited  in  this  way,  having  two  superior  ad- 
vantages. First,  there  is  so  much  of  the  romantic 
reality  to  be  seen  everywhere,  both  in  antiquities  and 
nature  ;  and  second,  the  courtesy  of  the  peasants, 
which  makes  every  rough  place  easy  ;  and  if  they  have 
not  milk  to  offer  you,  the  purest  water  that  ever  spark- 
led in  fountain  or  well  is  springing  up  everywhere  to 
refresh  the  traveler.  We  had  nature  to-day  in  her 
full  dress,  and  besides  the  pleasure  of  seeing  that 
heartfelt  welcome  which  was  manifested  toward  the 
"  blessed  landlady,"  I  contrasted  it  with  a  walk  taken 
one  sunny  day  with  a  rich  landlord,  a  few  months  before, 
whose  tenants  were  all  "  lazy  dogs  ;"  he  had  tried 
them  twenty-five  years  and  could  make  nothing  out  of 
them,  and  now  they  were  starving  they  were  all  look- 
ing to  him,  &c.  These  tenants,  when  they  saw  us  ap- 
proaching, walked  away  without  any  recognition  ;  or  if 
in  close  contact,  they  gave  a  slight  touch  of  the  hat, 
with  no  welcome,  nor  "  blessed  landlord."  °  Your 
tenants,  sir,"  I  observed,  "  do  not  appear  so  hearty 
and  courteous  as  is  customary  for  the  mountain  peas- 
ants in  many  places."  "  I  told  you  I  could  never 
10* 


220 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


make  anything  out  of  them,  and  intend  clearing  the 
whole  land  another  year  and  get  a  better  set."  The 
landlady  this  day  was  pointing  me  from  cabin  to  cabin, 
where  lived  an  industrious  man  or  tidy  woman,  and 
"  I  must  lose  them  all."  Proud  mountain  rose,  in 
conical  form  upon  mountain,  as  if  by  some  volcano 
they  had  been  shot  up  perpendicularly ;  streamlets 
were  trickling  from  their  sides,  and  the  rich  heath  and 
sedge  covered  their  surface.  These  lofty  piles  give 
pasturage  to  cattle,  sheep,  and  goats,  and  we  saw  the 
faithful  shepherd's  dog  leaping  from  rock  to  rock,  gath- 
ering the  flock  to  drive  them  to  better  forage,  and  the 
little  shepherd-girl  sitting  upon  a  crag  to  watch  the 
little  charge  ;  and  under  the  mountain  was  nestled  the 
cabin  of  the  herder,  who  for  twenty  years,  he  told  us, 
had  guarded  the  flocks  upon  the  tops  and  sides  of  these 
lofty  mountains.  By  the  wayside  was  a  large  fold,  in- 
to which  all  the  sheep  arc  gathered  when  the  different 
owners  wish  to  ascertain  if  any  are  missing,  or  when 
any  are  wanted  for  use.  The  owner  and  not  the  shep- 
herd sustains  the  loss,  if  the  number  be  wanting.  The 
sheep  live  and  thrive  upon  these  rich  mountains,  sum- 
mer and  winter.  The  mountain-goat,  so  peculiarly 
adapted  for  climbing  the  crags,  we  saw  here  ;  his 
shaggy  mane  waving  in  the  breeze,  as  he  nibbled  the 
sedge  and  heath  upon  the  highest  peaks.  Our  road 
was  upon  a  fearfully  precipitous  side  of  a  hill,  hanging 
over  the  lake.  We  had  reascendecl  the  cart,  and  were 
obliged  again  to  leave  it,  and  the  chubby  Mrs.  Garvey, 
in  doing  so,  like  a  sack  of  wool,  made  a  summerset  and 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


227 


rolled  upon  rough  stones  ;  her  justifiable  shrieks  were 
echoed  by  our  hearty  0  dears  !  for  we  expected  to  see 
her  mangled  arms,  body  and  legs,  making  their  fearful 
tumble  into  the  lake  below.  When  we  saw  her  peep 
out  from  under  her  mutilated  bonnet,  and  found  that 
life  was  still  in  her,  though  she  insisted  that  she  was 
dead,  quite  dead  !  my  uncourteous  laughing  powers  had 
no  alternative  but  to  drop  into  a  dead,  grave  silence, 
which  was  more  uncourteous  still ;  for  united  with  that 
natural  abstractedness  into  which  my  mind  always 
drops  when  in  the  midst  of  nature's  grand  scenery,  my 
appearance  amounted  to  a  state  of  sullenness.  We 
hobbled  down  the  hill,  leading  our  unfortunate  tumbler, 
right  glad  that  she  was  not  actually  broken  in  pieces  by 
the  fall,  though  certainly  she  was  not  benefited  by  it 
for  the  day.  We  reached  a  little  flat  lawn  by  the  side 
of  the  lake,  took  our  "  pic  nic,"  and  commenced  new 
difficulties  :  a  stream  must  be  crossed — there  was  nei- 
ther bridge  nor  stepping-stone,  nor  could  the  cart  assist 
us.  We  wandered  to  and  fro — at  last,  taking  the 
clothing  from  our  feet,  we  waded  over  slippery  stones 
and  gained  the  shore,  not  far  from  the  Adelphi  Lodge. 
Its  whereabouts  we  knew  by  the  evergreens  that  adorned 
the  mountains.  We  wound  round  a  path  which  showed 
us  on  the  right  a  conical  heath  mountain,  lost  in  the 
skies ;  and  no  sooner  had  we  passed  that  than  one  on 
the  left,  as  though  broken  from  its  side,  rose  in  view. 
Thus  we  proceeded,  threading  our  way  by  the  side  of  a 
pretty  stream,  till  we  saw  the  cottage,  built  by  Lord 


228 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Sligo,  now  in  possession  of  the  Plunkets,  three  brothers, 
who  named  it  Adelphi. 

A  river  winds  round  the  domain,  which  connects  the 
sea  on  the  left  with  the  lake  on  the  right,  a  mountain 
of  the  grandest  and  boldest  stands  in  front  of  the  cot- 
tage, without  a  tree,  presenting  a  most  beautiful  pic- 
ture of  light  and  shade  ;  the  sides  being  spotted  with  a 
yellow  appearance  mixed  with  the  heath  and  sedge,  re- 
conciling the  eye  to  the  absence  of  the  tree.  At  the 
back  of  the  lodge  stands  another  like  mountain  ;  form- 
ing, in  unison,  with  everything  around,  a  scenery  dis- 
tinct from  any  other  in  Ireland.  It  was  once  the  re- 
sort of  the  gay,  where  resounded  the  bugle  and  hunter's 
horn  :  its  lakes,  its  rivers,  its  mountains,  gardens,  cas- 
cades, and  walks,  now  appear  as  if  the  struggling  gar- 
dener was  trimming  here  and  there  a  festoon,  and  fast- 
ening a  decaying  plant  anew  to  some  supporting  stalk, 
that  he  might  keep  alive  a  relic  or  two  of  its  former 
loveliness ;  but  alas  !  the  beauty  of  Ireland  is  depart- 
ing, her  gay  ones  are  becoming  sad  ;  the  cruel  sport  of 
the  hunter  which  once  was  the  delight  of  the  fashion- 
able has  ceased,  and  the  timid  hare  may  now  trip  and 
leap  among  the  brakes  and  ferns,  without  starting  at 
the  bark  of  the  fearful  packhound  in  pursuit.  The 
setting  sun,  as  it  warned  us  to  depart,  gave  such  an 
enchanting  look  to  the  dark  mountains  hanging  over  the 
lake  and  pretty  river,  that  I  could  not  but 

"  Cast  a  longing,  lingering  look  behind." 

There  was  a  fearful  eight  miles  in  advance  ;  the  stream 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


229 


must  be  waded,  the  precipitous  footpath  hanging  over 
the  lake  at  nightfall  was  before  us  ;  but  so  completely 
abstracted  had  I  become,  that  if  no  company  had  been 
there  to  have  urged  me  forward,  the  moonlight,  if  not 
the  morning,  might  have  found  me  sitting,  looking  alter- 
nately at  the  mountains  and  lakes.  We  made  our  way 
through  the  defile,  and  reaching  a  little  hamlet,  a  soli- 
tary man  came  to  meet  us,  and  welcomed  me  in  true 
Irish  style  to  his  country,  adding,  "ina  twelvemonth  I 
hope  to  be  in  your  country."  A  young  son  had  gone 
two  years  before,  and  sent  him  back  £19  for  the  voyage. 
u  I  am  leaving,' '  said  he,  "praise  God,  a  good  land- 
lady, who  can  do  no  more  for  us,  and  we  can  do  noth- 
ing for  her."  "  This  man,"  said  Mrs.  Garvey,  "  is 
one  of  my  best  tenants,  and  I  am  lost  by  parting  with 
him,  but  cannot  ask  him  to  stop." 

This  romantic  tour  ended  in  the  evening,  and  I 
stopped  with  the  "  good  landlady  "  over  the  night,  and 
arose  while  all  were  asleep  in  the  morning,  and  scoured 
through  the  p retry  wood  that  fringed  the  river,  and 
back  of  the  house,  and  selected  the  choicest  moss- 
dotted  stones,  both  great  and  small,  for  a  rockery  ;  and 
when  the  laborers  had  arisen,  they  assisted  in  carrying 
and  wheeling  them  upon  the  lawn  which  fronted  the 
cottage  and  bordered  the  stream,  and  around  a  solitary 
young  fir  standing  there,  we  placed  these  stones.  The 
daisy  and  primrose  were  in  bloom — these  were  dug  and 
planted  in  the  niches,  while  the  landlady  added  her 
skill  in  setting  the  young  plants,  when,  in  three  hours — 
the  same  time  that  the  wall  of  the  Partra  Priest  was 


230 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


in  building— »-thcrc  was  a  rockery  of  firm  finish,  bloom- 
ing with  the  young  flowers  of  spring.  This  was  my 
last  work  in  the  county  of  Mayo,  and  frivolous  as  it 
might  be,  it  was  so  in  accordance  with  the  ancient  cus- 
toms of  Ireland,  and  my  own  feelings  too,  that  when  I 
turned  from  it  forever,  I  said,  u  Stand  there,  when  the 
hand  that  raised  you  shall  be  among  the  dead ;  and 
say  to  the  inquiring  traveler  who  may  visit  this  spot, 
that  Asenath  Nicholson,  of  New  York,  raised  these 
stones,  as  a  memento  of  the  suffering  country  she  so 
much  pitied  and  loved,  and  as  a  monument  of  grati- 
tude to  the  God  who  had  conducted  her  safely  through 
all  the  dangerous  scenes  encountered  while  passing 
over  it." 

A  branch  of  the  Garvey  family  lives  near  Murrisk 
Abbey,  situated  on  Clew  Bay,  at  the  foot  of  the  Croagh 
Patrick.  The  house  stands  near  the  sea,  embosomed 
in  wood,  a  garden  of  three  acres,  with  useful  horticul- 
tural productions,  at  the  back  of  it,  and  the  abbey  at  a 
little  distance.  The  walls  of  the  abbey  are  of  smooth 
stone  in  small  blocks  ;  the  building  contains  numerous 
apartments.  A  place  is  reserved  for  the  bmying  of 
priests,  and  a  pile  of  their  leg  and  arm-bones  are  now 
in  a  window  to  leave  room  for  fresh  inmates. 

The  Irish  appear  to  have  no  regard  for  their  dead 
when  the  flesh  is  consumed,  but  leave  the  bones  to 
bleach  in  the  sun,  and  the  skulls  to  be  kicked  about  as 
foot-balls  in  any  place.  A  return  through  Westport 
to  Castk'bar  gave  a  sight  of  suffering  and  degrada- 
tion which  could  not  be  heightened.    A  coach  -is  al- 


?a:::vz  in  Ireland. 


231 


ways  the  rallying  point  for  beggars ;  and  this  morning 
the  Roman  Catholic  Dean  was  upon  the  top,  and  I  went 
out  to  take  my  seat,  but  was  happy  to  retreat  into  a 
shop,  for  I  supposed  that  all  the  inmates  of  the  work- 
house were  poured  out  for  want  of  food,  and  were  sent 
to  prey  upon  the  inhabitants.  In  this  dreadful  flock 
there  was  not  one  redeeming  quality — not  one  counte- 
nance that  smiled,  nor  one  voice  that  uttered  a  sally  of 
Irish  wit — all  was  piteous  entreaty,  without  deceit; 
for  no  proof  was  needed  of  sincerity,  but  the  look  they 
gave  us.  I  was  urged  to  my  seat  through  the  crowd, 
and  no  sight  like  that  had  ever  met  my  eyes  as  when 
that  coach  whirled  from  that  haggard  assemblage. 

SOUP-SEOPS. 

It  is  well  known  that  among  the  many  devices  for 
the  cure  of  Ireland's  famine,  the  soup-shops  and  u  stir- 
about" establishments,  ranked  among  the  foremost, 
and  the  most  effectual  for  some  time.  These  were  got 
up  in  many  places  at  a  great  expense,  so  much  so,  that 
had  they  expected  to  have  fed  the  nation  on  beef-bones 
and  yellow  Indian  for  centuries  to  come,  they  could  not 
have  been  more  durably  made  and  fixed.  There  was 
quite  a  competition  to  excel  in  some  places,  to  make 
not  only  durable  boilers,  but  something  that  looked  a 
little  tasty,  and  he  that  "  got  up  "  the  best  was  quite 
a  hero.  But  the  soup-shop  of  soup-shops,  and  the 
boiler  of  boilers,  the  one  that  sung  the  requiem  to  all 
that  had  gone  before,  was  the  immortalized  one  of 
Soyer,  the  French  soup-maker  and  savory  inventer 


232 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


for  tlie  "  Wost  End  "  of  London.  It  would  seem  that 
the  Government,  on  whose  shoulders  hung  this  mighty 
"  potato-famine,"  had  exhausted  all  its  resources  of  in- 
vention "  to  stay  the  plague  "  but  the  one  last  men- 
tioned, and,  driven  to  their  "  wits'  end,"  they  happily 
hit  upon  this  panacea. 

Every  minutia  cannot  be  given,  either  of  the  "  get- 
ting up,"  or  the  "  recipe  "  itself;  but  the  "  sum  and 
substance  "  was  simply  this,  that  a  French  cook  from 
London  was  sent  to  Dublin  with  a  recipe  of  his  own 
concocting,  made  out  of  "  drippings,"  whether  of 
"  shinbones  "or  "  ox- tails  "  was  not  specified  ;  but 
this  "  dripping  "  was  to  be  so  savory,  and  withal  so 
nourishing,  that  with  a  trifling  sum,  Paddy  could  be 
fed,  and  fed  too  so  that  he  could  dig  drains,  cut  turf, 
and  spade  gardens,  on  an  advanced  strength,  which 
flung  both  the  potato  and  "  yellow  Indian  "  entirely  in 
the  "back-ground."  The  work  commenced:  a  new 
and  splendid  soup-shop  in  French  and  West  End 
fashion  soon  gladdened  the  eyes  of  the  expecting  Irish. 
"By  dad,"  exclaimed  one  as  he  passed  it,  "  and  there's 
the  cratur  that'll  du  the  heart  good ;  not  a  ha'porth  of 
the  blackguards  will  be  fightin'  for  the  '  yaller  Indian ' 
when  that's  in  the  stomach." 

So  great  was  this  work,  that  the  city  was  moved 
when  the  sound  went  forth  that  the  boiler  was  ready, 
and  the  soup  actually  "  under  way."  A  great  and 
general  invitation  was  given  to  the  lords  and  nobles,  with 
wives,  sons  and  daughters,  to  be  there,  and  test  this 
never-equaled  sustainer  of  life  and  zest  of  palate — 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


233 


carriages,  horsemen,  and  footmen,  lords  in  velvet  and 
broadcloth,  ladies  in  poplins,  satins,  flounces  and  feath- 
ers, bedizened  the  train.  Nor  was  this  all :  "when 
anything  great  or  good  is  afloat,  the  patriotism  of  Pad- 
dy, in  high  life  and  low,  is  aroused,  and  he  waits  not 
for  cloak,  shoe,  or  hat — if  cloak,  shoe  and  hat  be  lack- 
ing— but  is  ready  on  the  spot.  And  here  every  beg- 
gar, from  Liberty  to  Cook  street,  from  way-side,  hedge 
and  ditch,  whose  strength  was  adequate,  swelled  this 
living,  moving  panorama.  Wherever  a  feather  waved 
in  the  breeze,  there  a  rag  fluttered  in  thrilling  harmony. 
The  procession  entered  the  hall,  where  soup -ladles, 
plates  and  spoons,  were  in  bright  array.  Lords  and 
dukes,  duchesses,  baronesses,  and  "  ladies  of  honor/' 
walked  round  this  fresh-steaming  beverage,  each  taking 
a  sip,  and  pronouncing  it  the  finest  and  best.  The 
hungry  ones  heard  the  verdict,  and  though  some  doubt- 
ing ones  might  scoff,  yet  the  multitude  went  away  de- 
claring they  believed  that  the  "  blessed  soup  would  put 
the  life  in  'em." 

The  celebrated  patentee  received  his  sovereigns,  and 
returned  to  his  sauce  pots  and  dripping-pans  in  the  me- 
tropolis of  John  Bull.  The  recipe  was  made  over  to 
safe  hands,  the  fire  extinguished  under  the  boiler,  the 
soup- shop  closed,  and  poor  Paddy  waited  long,  and  in 
vain,  for  the  expected  draught ;  nor  did  he  awake  from 
his  hopeful  anticipations  till  the  streets  of  Dublin  re- 
sounded, by  night  and  by  day,  with 

-  "  Sup  it  up,  sup  it  up,  r  twill  cure  you  of  the  gout,"'  &c. 

The  poetry  in  refinement  of  style,  in  orthography  or 


234 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


punctuation,  did  not  equal  Cowpcr's  "  John  Gilpin," 
but  in  aptnesss  of  invention,  and  clearness  of  descrip- 
tion, it  was  not  a  whit  behind  ;  and  when  the  echo  was 
beginning  to  swell  on  the  breeze, 

"  Up  flew  the  windows  all," 

of  many  a  dwelling,  whose  inmates  would  shrink  from 
the  gaze  of  the  vulgar,  and  blush  to  be  found  reading 
by  daylight,  wit  so  coarsely  expressed.  The  soup  re- 
cipe was  not  entirely  a  thing  of  naught ;  it  brought  to 
the  ballad-maker  and  ballad-singers  ready  cash  for 
many  a  week  ;  and  the  host  of  disappointed  hungry 
ones  who  followed  in  the  train,  found  in  the  poetic  ex- 
citement a  momentary  pause  of  pain,  which  said, 

"  That  the  cheek  may  be  tinged  with  a  warm  sunny  smile, 
Though  the  cold  heart  to  ruin  runs  darkly  the  while." 

I  soon  left  for  Cork.  A  visit  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
Marry,  who,  in  union  with  his  fellow-laborer,  Jordan, 
had  established  a  church  of  the  Independent  order, 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Irish  Evangelical  Society. 

Their  labors  are  blessed  ;  the  Roman  Catholics  ap- 
pear to  feel  that  in  that  little  organization  good  is 
doing,  and  often  when  mention  was  made  of  it  the  answer 
would  be,  "  they  are  a  blessed  people."  Many  ex- 
pressed a  desire  that  they  might  build  a  chapel,  and 
some  few  had  actually  contributed  a  little  for  that 
purpose.  These  men  had  preached  Christ  and  treated 
the  people  kindly,  and  they  met  with  no  serious  opposi- 
tion.   They  had  been  impartial  in  their  distributions 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


235 


through  the  famine,  and  had  never  attempted  to  prose- 
lyte either  by  a  pound  of  Indian  meal,  or  "  ten  ounces" 
of  black  bread. 

A  rainy  morning  took  me  from  Castlebar,  and  in  a 
few  hours  I  reached  Tume,  and  first  visited  the  work- 
house. Eighteen  hundred  were  here  doing  the  same 
thing — nothing  ;  but  one  improvement,  which  is  worth 
naming,  distinguished  this  house.  All  the  cast-off  bed- 
clothes and  ticking  were  converted  into  garments  for 
the  poor,  and  given  them  when  they  left  the  house. 
Their  rags  which  they  wore  in,  were  all  flung  aside, 
and  they  went  decently  out.  Next  I  visited  the  con- 
vent, and  here  found  half  a  dozen  nuns  hiding  from  the 
world,  and  yet  completely  overwhelmed  with  it.  They 
had  a  company  of  four  hundred  children,  most  of  them 
who  were  starving  in  the  beginning  of  famine,  and  have 
instructed  and  fed  them  daily.  This  was  the  first 
school  I  had  visited  during  the  famine,  where  the  chil- 
dren retained  that  ruddiness  of  look  and  buoyancy  of 
manner,  so  prevalent  in  the  Irish  peasantry.  "  We 
have  tested,"  said  a  nun,  "  the  strength  of  the  Indian 
meal.  These  children,  through  last  winter,  were  fed 
but  once  a  day  on  stirabout  and  treacle,  and  had  as 
much  as  they  would  take ;  they  were  from  among  the 
most  feeble,  but  soon  became  strong  and  active  as  you 
now  see."  They  assembled  for  dinner,  and  as  had 
been  their  custom,  they  clasped  their  hands  and  silently 
stood,  while  one  repeated  these  words  :  "  We  thank 
thee,  0  God,  for  giving  us  benefactors,  and  pray  that 
they  may  be  blessed  with  long  life  and  a  happy  death." 


236 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


"  The  good  Quakers,"  said  a  nun,  u  have  kept  them 
alive  ;  and  the  clothes  }Tou  sec  on  them  are  sent  through 
that  channel,  all  but  the  caps,  which  we  provide." 
These  children  were  taken  from  filth  and  poverty, 
never  knowing  the  use  of  the  needle,  or  value  of  a 
stocking,  and  novf  could  produce  the  finest  specimens 
of  knitting,  both  ornamental  and  useful.  And  looking 
upon  these  happy  faces  one  might  feel  that  Ireland  is 
not  wholly  lost.  My  next  visit  was  in  the  workhouse 
at  the  old  town  of  Gal  way.  The  distress  here  had 
been  dreadful,  and  most  of  them  seemed  waiting  in  si- 
lent despair  for  the  last  finishing  stroke  of  their  misery. 
One  cleanly-clad  fisherman  of  whom  I  made  inquiries, 
invited  me  to  visit  the  fishermen's  cottages,  which  be- 
fore the  famine  were  kept  tidy,  and  had  the  "  comfort- 
able bit"  at  all  times  ;  "  now,  the  fisheries  are  lost, 
we  are  too  poor  to  keep  up  the  tackle,  and  are  all 
starving."  I  followed  him  to  a  row  of  neat  cottages, 
where  the  discouraged  housekeepers  appeared  as  if 
they  had  swept  their  cottage  floors,  put  on  the  last 
piece  of  turf,  and  had  actually  sat  down  to  die. 
"  Here  we  are,"  said  one,  (as  she  rose  from  her  stool 
to  salute  us,)  "  sitting  in  these  naked  walls,  without  a 
mouthful  of  bread,  and  don't  know  what  the  good  God 
will  do  for  us."  This  fisherman  then  showed  me  into 
the  monks'  school-rooms,  who  were  teaching  and  feed- 
ing a  number  of  boys,  and  showed  me  some  new  fishing 
nets  which  the  kind  Quakers  had  sent,  and  he  hoped, 
if  they  did  not  all  die,  that  the  unet  might  sairve 
'em." 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


237 


The  workhouse  here  was  on  the  best  plan  of  any  I 
had  seen  ;  the  master  and  matron  had  been  indefatiga- 
ble in  placing  everything  in  its  true  position,  and  ap- 
peared to  feel  that  their  station  was  a  responsible  one, 
and  that  the  poor  were  a  sacred  trust,  belonging  still 
to  the  order  of  human  beings.  The  food  was  abun- 
dant and  good,  and  the  parents  and  children  allowed  to 
see  and  converse  together  oftener  than  in  other  like  es- 
tablishments ;  and  now,  in  March,  1850,  the  same  re- 
port is  current,  that  good  order  and  comfort  abound 
there,  beyond  any  other.  Everlasting  peace  rest  on 
the  heads  of  those  who  do  not  make  merchandise  of 
the  poor  for  gain. 

From  Galway,  Limerick  was  the  next  stopping- 
place,  and  the  poorhouse  in  that  place  was  so  crowded, 
the  morning  so  rainy,  and  the  keepers  so  busy  in  gath- 
ering the  inmates  to  the  "  stirabout/'  that  but  little 
that  was  satisfactory  could  be  obtained. 

Cork  was  reached  in  the  evening,  with  the  loss  of  a 
trunk  by  the  inattention  of  the  coachman,  but  in  a 
few  days  it  was  restored  by  the  honesty  of  a  passen- 
ger. As  the  comfort  of  the  traveling  public  depends 
so  much  on  coachmen,  and  as  passengers  beside  have  a 
heavy  fare  to  pay,  it  would  be  unjust  to  the  public,  as 
an  individual,  not  to  give  a  second  testimony  to  the  ce- 
lebrated Bianconi's  cars  and  carmen.  I  should  have 
been  happy  to  have  found  that  my  complaints  in  the 
first  volume  respecting  this  establishment  were  not- 
realized  as  habits,  but  merely  accidental,  and  that  fur- 
ther acquaintance  might  insure  greater  esteem  ;  but  a 


238 


ANNALS   OE  THE 


second  trial  told  me  that  thus  far  severity  had  not  ex- 
aggerated. I  paid  my  passage  at  Limerick  for  Cork, 
"went  to  Fermoy  without  any  serious  difficulty ;  here 
vehicles  and  horses  were  changed,  my  trunk  placed  be- 
yond my  care,  new  passengers  seated  till  the  car  was 
quite  overcharged,  when  the  carman  said  with  inso- 
lence, as  he  saw  me  waiting  for  a  seat,  "  Get  on  and 
stand  up,  or  else  stop  till  to-morrow,  I'll  not  wait  for 
ye."  "  My  passage  is  paid  to  Cork,  my  trunk  is  be- 
yond my  reach,  or  I  would  wait,"  was  the  answer. 
"  Get  on  quick  and  stand  there,  or  you're  left."  I  as- 
cended the  seat,  and  holding  by  the  luggage,  rode  ten 
miles  standing  in  much  peril,  while  the  carman  occa- 
sionally looked  around,  and  made  some  waggish  joke, 
much  to  the  amusement  of  decently-clad  gentlemen, 
not  one  of  whom  offered  me  a  seat.  The  reader  may 
justly  inquire — Is  this  the  Irish  politeness,  of  which 
so  much  has  been  said  in  these  pages  1  It  is  not 
instinctive  Irish  politeness — this  is  always  pure  and  al- 
ways abundant ;  but  it  is  the  habit  put  on  and  culti- 
vated, by  such  as  having  no  claim  to  family  or  rank, 
have,  mushroom-like,  started  suddenly  from  a  manure - 
heap  into  a  little  higher  business,  and  having  no  educa- 
tion that  has  in  the  least  disciplined  the  mind,  they  at 
once  assume  the  airs  of  imperious  landlords,  and  keep- 
ers of  "  whisky-shops,"  as  the  best  means  of  estab- 
lishing their  advanced  standing. 

The  county  of  Cork  is  the  largest  county  in  Ireland, 
and  once  had  four  walled  towns  : — Cork,  Youghal, 
Kinsale,  and  Bandon.    It  has  an  extensive  sea-coast, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


239 


and  ten  good  harbors.  It  is  everywhere  well  watered, 
and  was  once  supplied  with  all  kinds  of  game  and  cat- 
tle, wool,  and  woolen  and  linen  yarn.  It,  like  all  Ire- 
land, has  been  sifted  and  shaken,  divided  among  septs 
and  kings,  and  is  now  resting  under  the  gracious 
shadow  of  the  Queen  Victoria.  The  population  num- 
bered in  the  year  1841  about  107,682.  The  beauti- 
ful River  Lee,  where  vessels  from  the  Cove  of  Cork 
enter,  flows  through  the  city,  giving  from  the  hill  top 
and  side  to  the  neat  trellised  cottages  that  hang  there 
a  cheerful  aspect  of  life  and  commerce  which  few  towns 
can  claim.  A  sail  from  Cove  Harbor  up  the  Lee,  to 
the  city,  cannot  be  surpassed  in  beauty,  on  a  pleasant 
evening.  The  Venetian  boatman  might  here  find  ma- 
terial enough  to  add  a  new  stanza  to  his  Gondolier 
song ;  and  if  angels  retain  any  wish  for  the  sin- 
scathed  scenery  of  earth,  they  might  strike  here  their 
golden  harps,  and  sing  anew  the  sweet  song 

"  Peace  on  earth,  and  good  will  to  men." 

The  whole  distance  is  so  variedly  enchanting  that 
the  overcharged  eye,  as  it  drops  its  lingering  curtain 
upon  one  fairy  spot,  pauses,  in  doubt  whether  its  next 
opening  can  greet  beauties  like  the  last.  Cove,  now  a 
town  containing  a  population  of  about  TO 00,  is  built 
upon  the*  sloping  side  of  a  hill,  in  Terraces  ;  and  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill  is  a  line  of  houses  called  the  Beach 
and  Crescent. 

This  beautiful  town,  now  named  Queenstown,  in 
honor  of  the  landing  of  Victoria,  in  the  summer  of 


240 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


1840,  when  Her  Majesty  placed  her  foot  for  the  first 
time  on  that  green  isle,  and  honored  that  spot  with  its 
first  impression,  was,  half  a  century  ago,  but  a  misera- 
ble fishing  hamlet,  the  remains  of  which  are  most 
hideously  and  squalidly  looking  out,  on  the  north  side, 
called  "  Old  Cove."  However  squalid  the  old  houses 
may  look,  there  arc  more  redeeming  qualities  here  than 
any  town  in  Ireland.  It  is  snugly  sheltered  from  winds 
by  the  hill ;  and  this  hill  is  so  continually  washed  with 
fresh  showers  from  the  buckets  of  heaven,  that  it  needs 
no  police  regulations  to  keep  the  declivity  in  a  condi- 
tion for  the  most  delicate  foot  and  olfactory  nerves  to 
walk  without  difficulty  or  offense.  Then  the  broad  old 
river  spreading  out  beneath  its  foot,  presenting  a  har- 
bor of  six  miles  in  length  and  three  in  breadth,  dotted 
with  four  islands,  Spike,  Hawlbouline,  Rocky,  and 
Coney,  with  two  rivers,  Ballinacurra  and  Awnbree,  be- 
side many  pretty  streamlets  emptying  into  it.  The 
harbor  is  backed  by  hills  of  the  greenest  and  richest, 
and  ornamented  with  five  Martello  towers,  so  called 
from  a  tower  in  the  Bay  of  Martello,  in  the  island  of 
Corsica.  As  nearly  all  the  present  names  of  places  in 
Ireland  had  an  Irish  root,  and  this  root  has  a  significa- 
tion, a  knowledge  of  these,  places  the  history  in  many 
cases  in  a  clear  and  useful  light.  The  village  and  glen 
of  Monkston  stretched  along,  with  the  church  and  old 
castle,  with  spire  and  towers  overlooking  the  whole, 
first  meet  the  view  ;  then  a  mile  further,  Passage,  a 
village  extending  nearly  a  mile,  with  a  quay  and  bath- 
ing houses,  and  taken  as  a  whole  is  interesting,  as  a 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


241 


busy  thoroughfare.  Blackrock  Castle  soon  catches  the 
'eye,  and  its  situation  and  happy  construction  can  hardly 
be  improved  by  imagination.  It  looks  out  upon  Lake 
Mahon  and  the  picturesque  islands  which  dot  it ;  and 
farther  on  upon  the  right  is  Mount  Patrick,  where 
stands  the  tower  dedicated  to  Theobald  Mathew  ;  and 
before  reaching  Cork,  embosomed  in  trees,  is  the  seat 
of  Mr.  Penrose,  called  Woodhill,  and  possesses  the  un- 
dying honor  of  the  spot  where  the  daughter  of  Currant 
was  married  to  Captain  Henry  Sturgeon.  It  is  long 
since  Moore  sung  in  sweet  strains  the  never-to-be-for- 
gotten melody  of 

f  She  is  far  from  the  land  where  her  young  hero  sleeps, 
And  lovers  are  round  her  sighing ; 
But  coldly  she  turns  from  their  gaze  and  weeps, 
For  her  heart  in  his  grave  is  lying. 

"  O  !  make  her  a  grave  where  the  sunbeams  rest, 
When  they  promise  a  glorious  morrow, 
They'll  shine  o'er  her  sleep  like  a  smile  from  the  West, 
From  her  own  lov'd  island  of  sorrow." 

Cork  stands  on  a  marshy  spot ;  its  name  in  Irish  is 
Corcaig,  signifying  a  moor  or  marsh,  and  the  city  owes 
its  origin  to  St.  Fin  Bar,  who  first  founded  a  cathe- 
dral, in  the  seventh  century,  near  the  south  branch  of 
the  Lee,  and  from  this  beginning  Corcaig-more,  or  the 
great  Cork,  arose  ;  and  though  this  city  has  passed 
through  changes  and  great  sufferings,  yet  it  has  for  a 
long  time  maintained  a  respectable,  if  not  high  stand- 
ing, for  intelligence.  Schools  are  numerous,  and  some 
of  them  of  a  high  order,  and  the  laboring  classes  are 
mostly  well  educated  in  a  plain  way.  The  Roman 
11 


242 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Catholics  give  nine  thousand  children  gratuitous  in- 
struction in  the  various  schools,  and  the  Protestants 
have  done  much,  their  schools  being  liberally  endowed, 
and  probably  it  would  not  be  exaggeration  to  say,  that 
in  no  city  in  the  kingdom  of  like  population  would 
more  people  among  the  poorer  classes  be  found  who 
could  read,  than  in  Cork.  The  convents,  too,  have 
done  nobly  in  this  respect,  educating  a  multitude  of 
children  of  the  poor  without  any  compensation.  J. 
Windell  has  justly  said,  that  "  the  great  majority  of 
the  working  class  are  all  literate,  and  generally  ac- 
quainted with  the  elements  of  knowledge  ;  the  middle 
classes,  in  intelligence,  and  in  the  acquisition  of  solid 
as  well  as  graceful  information,  are  entitled  to  a  very 
distinguished  place."  The  Royal  Cork  Institution  has 
a  library  of  from  five  to  six  thousand  volumes,  the 
Cork  Library  has  nine  thousand  volumes,  and  the  Cork 
Mechanics'  Institute  has  a  small  one,  beside  private 
libraries  of  considerable  note.  It  may  be  doubtful 
whether  it  can  be  said  that,  as  in  the  one  in  Belfast, 
there  are  in  it  no  works  of  fiction.  The  summer  of 
1848  found  the  city  rallying  a  little  from  the  fearful 
effects  of  the  famine  ;  for  in  a  county  so  large,  embrac- 
ing so  much  sea-coast,  marshy  ground,  &c.,  there  must 
be  found  many  poor  in  the  best  times  in  Ireland.  The 
Friends'  Society,  connected  with  the  Dublin  Central 
Committee,  acted  with  untiring  efficiency  ;  and  Theo- 
bald Mathew  labored  for  months  in  giving  out  Ameri- 
can donations  which  were  intrusted  to  him.  The  nuns, 
too,  had  children  to  a  great  amount,  whom  they  daily 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


243 


fed.  The  British  Association,  likewise,  were  there, 
but  death  fearfully  went  on.  Let  the  walls  of  that 
workhouse  tell  the  story  of  the  hundreds  carried  out 
upon  "  sliding  coffins,'3  and  buried  in  pits.  Let  the 
cemetery  of  Theobald  Mathew  show  its  ten  thousand, 
which  he  buried  there  in  huge  graves,  opening  a  yawn- 
ing gulf,  and  throwing  in  lime,  then  adding  coffinless 
bodies  daily,  till  the  pit  was  filled  ;  then  opening  an- 
other, till  ten  thousand  were  numbered  !  The  rain  had 
washed  the  loose  dirt  away  in  some  spots,  and  parts  of 
the  bodies  were  exposed  in  a  few  places.  A  painful 
sight  ! 

The  Cork  Committee  acted  most  efficiently,  and  the 
name  of  Abraham  Beale  has  left  there  a  sweet  and  last- 
ing remembrance.  Beside  the  city  of  Cork,  the  rural 
districts  were  in  the  greatest  distress,  and  this  benevo- 
lent, indefatigable  laborer  turned  his  energies  unceas- 
ingly to  those  districts,  faithfully  discharging  his  duty, 
till  his  health  failed  ;  and  his  biographer  states,  that 
"  His  last  act  of  public  duty  was  the  attendance  of  the 
Relief  Committee,  in  which  he  had  so  assiduously  la- 
bored.7' Typhus  fever  took  him  in  a  few  days  to  the 
"  mansion"  which,  doubtless,  was  prepared  for  him  ;  for 
though  he  said,  "  I  have  been  but  an  unprofitable  serv- 
ant," yet  the  living  testify  that  his  profiting  appeared 
unto  all.  He  died  in  August,  1847,  while  the  scourge 
was  still  raging  ;  and  in  1848  his  name  was  fresh  on  the 
lips  of  many  in  that  city,  who,  with  his  two  bereaved 
sisters,  say,  they  have  lost  in  him  a  friend  and  a  father. 
u  The  memory  of  the  just  is  truly  blessed." 


244 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Though  in  the  summer  of  1848  many  were  suffering, 
yet  the  workhouse  was  not  filled  with  the  dying  as  be- 
fore, and  the  "sliding  coffin"  never  met  my  eye. 
The  indefatigable  nuns  still  were  overwhelmed  with 
children,  many  of  whom  were  placed  there  by  Father 
Mathew,  and  in  one  contiguous  to  his  chapel  were 
about  thirteen  hundred,  who  were  fed  when  food  could 
be  obtained.  One  of  the  most  affecting  items  of  the 
famine,  if  item  it  may  be  called,  is  the  multitude  of 
orphans  left  in  that  afflicted  country,  and  the  saying 
was  becoming  quite  a  common  one,  when  a  hungry  child 
was  asked  where  he  lived,  or  where  his  father  and 
mother  were,  to  answer,  "  They  died  sir  (or  ma'am),  in 
the  stirabout  times."  This  alluded  to  the  year  1847 
particularly,  when  the  "  stirabout  99  was  most  in  vogue. 
The  "  black  bread  times  "  now  have  an  imperishable 
name  in  the  west  of  Ireland,  and  "  Soyer's  soup  99  will 
not  die  in  the  memory  of  the  wags  of  Dublin,  till  wars, 
pestilence,  and  famine  shall  cease  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth. 

The  environs  of  Cork  had  not  lost  any  of  their 
charms  by  the  scourge,  and  Blarney  seemed  to  have 
put  on  new  beauties  ;  her  old  castle  and  Blarney  stone, 
now  supported  with  two  iron  grasps,  are  still  looking 
forth  from  the  shrubbery  and  trees,  which  wildly  sur- 
round it,  for  the  good  taste  of  the  owner  keeps  the 
pruning  knife  confined  to  his  enchanting  gardens  and 
walks,  and  allows  nature  here  to  frolic  according  to  her 
own  vagaries.  The  sycamore,  oak,  arbutus,  elm,  ash, 
holly,  copper-beech,  and  ivy,  wTere  mingling  and  com- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


245 


mingling,  without  any  aristocratic  airs  of  family  descent 
or  caste. 

A  stranger  here  would  wonder  what  famine  could 
have  to  do  in  these  pleasant  grounds  ;  and  while  ram- 
bling among  its  moss-covered  stones,  wild  flowers,  and 
creeping  ivy,  its  shady  seats,  alcoves,  and  grottos,  we 
felt  that  an  Italian  gardener  could  scarcely  make  a 
spot  more  enchanting,  even  though  an  Italian  sky 
should  mingle  its  blandness. 

The  company,  too,  in  such  places,  has  much  to  do 
in  heightening  or  diminishing  the  pleasure,  and  even 
beauty  of  such  scenes.  Mine  was  a  happy  lot  this  day. 
The  young  Beales,  who  were  the  party,  with  a  London 
acquaintance,  had  a  natural  and  cultivated  relish  for 
treats  like  these,  and  while  we  were  taking  our  pic-nic 
in  that  grove  of  delights,  gladly  would  I  have  forgotten 
the  sorrows  of  the  past  and  avoided  a  dread  of  the  fu- 
ture, but  could  not ;  for  notwithstanding  Blarney  pleas- 
ure grounds,  we  were  in  woe-stricken  Ireland  still,  and 
we  knew  that  desponding  hearts  and  hungry  stomachs 
were  not  far  distant.  A  cheerful  walk  home  led  us 
through  Blarney  Lane,  in  the  suburbs  of  Cork,  where 
the  neatness  of  the  cottages,  with  a  flower-pot  in  many 
a  window,  had  an  interest  beyond  what  had  been  pre  - 
sented  in  any  suburb  of  Ireland's  large  towns,  since 
the  famine.  We  took  welcome  liberties  to  look  occa- 
sionally into  one,  and  found  all  invariably  tidy,  and 
what  was  still  more  creditable,  the  women  were  busy 
at  work.  This  said  that  Cork  had  still  a  living  germ 
within  her,  that  might  and  would  be  resuscitated  ;  for 


240 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


if  woman's  hands  arc  well  employed,  however  unnoticed 
her  little  inventions  and  doings  may  be,  they  at  last 
work  out,  and  bring  forth  untold  comforts,  which  arc 
more  valuable  because  diffused  insensibly  where  most 
needed. 

"  The  little  foxes  spoil  the  vines,"  and  little  things 
are  the  foundation  of  all  great  ones,  and  had  Ireland, 
as  well  as  the  whole  world  beside,  looked  better  to  this, 
better  effects  would  have  been  produced.  Cork  may 
boast  as  many  efficient  men,  and  active  useful  women, 
probably,  as  any  town  in  Ireland.  It  has  a  Father 
Ma  the  w  and  a  William  Martin,  to  urge  by  precept  and 
example  the  importance  and  benefits  of  sobriety  and 
industry ;  it  has  a  Society  of  Friends,  whose  religion 
and  discipline  encourage  no  drones,  and  its  intelligence 
has  broken  down  that  caste  which  so  much  exists  in 
many  parts  of  the  country,  and  rendered  the  people  of 
all  classes  more  accessible  than  in  any  other  city  in 
Ireland.  Fifteen  weeks'  stopping  there  heightened  my 
admiration  of  the  true  hospitality  and  capabilities  of 
the  inhabitants  ;  and  those  flowery  hill-sides  and  rose- 
covered  gateways  and  windows  that  hung  over  the  Lee, 
will  be  held  ever  in  the  sweetest  remembrance.  "  The 
little  room,"  where  one  week  of  the  pleasantest  was 
spent,  deserves  an  acknowledgment  which  I  am  not 
able  to  give.  May  that  cottage  and  its  inmates  long 
be  united  as  happily  and  sweetly  as  their  industry  and 
beauty  so  richly  merit. 

A  short  excursion  to  Castlemartyr,  fifteen  miles  from 
Cork,  took  me  through  a  richly  cultivated  country, 


famine  in  Ireland, 


where  fields  of  wheat,  barley,  and  oats  are  ripening  for 
the  harvest ;  but  five  fields  of  blasted  potatoes  that  we 
passed,  said  that  they  had  not  vet  recovered  courage 
and  strength  to  look  oat  again  upon  the  world,  as  in 
days  gone  by. 

The  feelings  of  the  people  are  so  sensitive,  that  they 
are  not  willing  to  speak  of  the  subject  when  the  fields 
begin  to  droop,  and  when  mention  is  made  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  new  failure,  eveiything  favorable  is 
brought  to  bear  on  the  subject ;  and  often  one  member 
of  a  family  has  been  known  to  keep  all  knowledge  from 
the  others,  that  might  have  reached  him.  Castlemartyr 
was  once  a  parliamentary  borough  ;  the  castle  has  long 
been  famous  for  battles  and  plunders,  and  King  Wil- 
liam's forces,  aner  the  Battle  of  the  Boyne,  charged  a 
body  of  three  hundred  Irish,  who  fled  to  the  castle, 
were  driven  oat,  the  fortress  surrendered,  with  the  loss 
of  sixty  men,  and  sixteen  prisoners  taken.  The  Irish, 
in  1671,  got  possession  of  the  town,  but  were  driven 
out,  and  the  castle  since  has  laid  in  ivy-covered  rains, 
being  used  as  a  wine-cellar  by  Lord  Shannon.  It  is 
surrounded  with  the  loftiest  trees,  and  a  lawn  of  eme- 
rald green  runs  down  to  a  lake  upon  one  side  of  it.  A 
thousand  acres  of  the  most  richly  cultivated  land  be- 
long to  this  domain  ;  a  canal,  three  lakes,  an  extensive 
deer  park,  walks  and  rides,  a  flower  garden  of  rare 
beauty,  and  kitchen  garden  of  great  size.  Near  the 
castle  stands  his  lordship's  house,  containing  a  center 
and  two  wings. 

The  apparatus  for  hunting  is  a  great  curiosity. 


248 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


Forty-two  pica  sure -horses  for  this  sport  were  stabled 
here  in  apartments  much  better  than  the  dwellings  of 
the  laboring  class,  and  the  richly  tipped  harness,  with 
their  bright  stirrups  and  saddles,  were  still  hanging,  as 
mementoes  of  former  greatness,  and  ready  for  use, 
should  the  absentee  find  it  for  his  benefit  to  return  to 
his  pleasure  grounds.  The  famine  and  other  embar- 
rassments have  compelled  him  to  suspend  his  hunting 
pleasures  at  present ;  his  hounds  were  dismissed,  his 
horses  sold,  and  his  carriages  remain  in  silent  waiting. 

The  town  had  suffered  like  all  others,  in  the  famine, 
aud  the  rich  widow  where  I  stopped  told  sad  tales  of 
what  had  passed ;  but  so  engrossed  was  she  with  the 
loss  of  her  husband,  that  she  could  find  little  space  for 
the  woes  of  others  in  her  heart.  She  took  me  upon  a 
desolate  sea-coast  some  ten  miles  distant,  and  there  was 
misery  ever  fresh  and  ever  young.  The  strange  leap 
from  a  domain  in  Ireland  to  a  hut  or  village  of  the 
poor,  is  nowhere  so  vivid  in  any  county  as  here.  I  was 
glad  to  leave  this  spot  and  return  to  Cork ;  but  a  few 
short  excursions  more  must  finish  all.  A  flower-show 
was  a  treat  which  always  brings  out  all  that  is  beauti- 
ful to  the  eye,  so  far  as  fashion  is  concerned.  Here 
lords  and  ladies  are  found,  and  though  they  would  not 
like  a  vulgar  stare,  yet  they  would  not  disapprove  of 
a  little  admiration  given  to  style  and  beauty.  The 
show  was  a  splendid  one,  and  gave  great  credit  to 
the  skill  of  gardeners,  who  are  certainly  not  infe- 
rior in  taste  in  Ireland  to  any  in  the  kingdom.  The 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


249 


ladies  too,  were  the  ladies  of  Ireland — "  fair  to  look 
upon." 

SPIKE  ISLAND. 

Strangers  were  not  permitted,  in  the  year  1848,  to 
visit  the  convicts  on  Spike  Island,  but  fortunately  being 
a  few  days  in  the  family  of  Doctor  Maurice  Power, 
M.P.,  he  was,  in  consequence  of  his  standing,  allowed 
a  peep  among  them,  and  had  the  privilege  of  taking  all 
who  belonged  to  his  family  ; — his  wife,  daughter,  and 
myself  were  his  company.  This  island  is  rough  in  its 
appearance,  containing  some  one  hundred  and  eighty 
acres,  and  has  been  a  fortified  island  from  about 
1791-2.  Here  we  found  convicts  from  every  part  of 
Ireland,  who  were  deemed  worthy  of  an  exile  from 
home  for  the  space  of  seven  years.  The  number  of 
these  victims  was  about  eight  hundred  and  forty  ;  some 
employed  in  digging  out  rocks  and  leveling  rough  places, 
some  in  making  mats  of  cocoa-nut  bark,  some  knitting, 
and  some  marching  round  a  circle  made  up  on  the  pave- 
ment, for  exercise  and  punishment.  A  school  is  kept 
where  for  two  hours  in  rotation  all  who  are  of  suitable 
age,  and  cannot  read  and  write,  are  taught  these 
branches.  The  teacher  remarked,  when  pointing  to 
three  hundred  pupils,  "  these  persons  are  docile,  and  I 
believe  honest ;  their  only  crime  being  taking  food  when 
starving."  Some  of  these  young  men  and  boys  had 
thrown  a  stone  into  a  bread  shop,  some  had  stolen  a 
turnip,  and  some  a  sheep  ;  but  every  one  was  induced 
by  extreme  hunger  to  do  the  deed.  But  we  are  gravely 
11* 


250 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


told  in  Ireland  that  property  must  be  protected,  though 
life  should  be  squandered.  The  teacher  added,  "  I 
cannot  look  on  these  men  and  boys  as  criminals."  A 
few  others  had  been  guilty  of  manslaughter ;  and  one 
gentlemanly  appearing  man  had  been  guilty  of  embez- 
zling public  money — he  was  overseeing  the  making  of 
mats.  A  dexterous  pickpocket,  not  yet  fifteen,  was 
present,  from  Dublin,  who  had3  when  there,  fifty  men 
under  pay  ;  and  in  the  presence  of  us  all  he  showed  his 
propensity,  by  keeping  one  hand  upon  his  work  and  the 
other  apparent^  carelessly  upon  the  skirt  of  Doctor 
Power's  coat  near  the  pocket.  This  sad  boy  will  not 
be  cured  by  forced  abstinence ;  the  keepers  informed 
us  that  he  steals  for  the  pleasure  of  it — taking  what  he 
does  not  want,  such  as  handkerchiefs  and  stockings, 
which  he  can  neither  wear  nor  dispose  of.  The  lodg- 
ing-rooms were  large,  and  well  ventilated ;  and  num- 
bers sleep  in  the  same  apartment,  without  any  guard. 
The  solitary  cells  were  very  cold, — the  walls  reeking 
with  wet ;  but  as  these  are  only  for  the  incorrigibles — 
if  none  behave  unseemly,  none  need  to  inhabit  them. 
The  room  where  the  unfortunate  Mitchell  was  confined, 
when  on  his  way  to  Bermuda,  was  shown  us ;  it  was 
larger  than  any  other  single  room,  and  had  the  luxury 
of  a  board  floor,  and  would,  if  nicely  fitted  up,  make  a 
tolerable  farm  kitchen.  But  report  fell  far  short  of 
the  reality,  when  she  said  that  this  traitor  was  treated 
more  like  a  gentleman  than  a  felon,  occupying  a  draw- 
ing-room, well  furnished.  The  bread  was  good,  made 
of  unbolted  wheat  meal,  and  the  quantity  quite  sufii- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


251 


cient.  Cocoa  is  given  every  Sabbath  morning,  and 
meat  for  dinner.  Much  better  in  any  way  were  these 
convicts  than  any  inmates  of  a  workhouse  in  Ireland. 
We  sailed  from  Spike  up  the  beautiful  Corigaline,  and 
its  winding  course  presented  us  rich  beauties  of  foli- 
age, gentlemen's  seats,  and  rose-covered  cottages.  A 
clear  sun,  like  that  of  my  native  home,  shone  upon  this 
landscape  ;  and  in  sight  of  the  river,  mid  the  song  of 
birds,  with  children  sporting  about  us,  in  this  wooded 
spot  we  took  a  pleasant  "  pic  nic,"  which  was  greatly 
valued  by  me,  because  the  carmen  were  sitting  too,  at 
a  little  distance,  partaking  of  the  same  repast,  when 
one  sent  a  civil  inquiry  to  Mrs.  P.  to  know  if  the  pud- 
ding had  whisky  in  it,  as  he  was  a  teetotaler,  and  could 
not  take  it  if  anything  of  the  kind  were  in  it.  He  was 
assured  it  was  pure. 

The  whole  to  me  was  quite  American,  Dr.  P.  hav- 
ing graduated  in  a  college  there,  his  wife  being  a  na- 
tive, and  his  daughter  born  there,  and  had  he  not  been 
an  M.P.  we  might  have  talked  republican  things. 
Why  is  this  partiality  for  country  and  home  so  deeply 
fixed  in  the  human  heart  1  Is  it  not  selfish,  and  does 
it  not  tend  to  contract,  and  even  sour  the  mind  against 
what  often  is  more  valuable  than  home  produce  ? 

THE   MATHEW  TOWER. 

Among  the  many  interesting  subjects  of  people  and 
things  in  the  city  of  Cork,  may  be  included  as  preemi- 
nent this  beautiful  tower,  standing  upon  Mount  Pat- 
rick, overlooking  the  pleasant  waters  of  the  Lee.  It 


252 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


is  three  miles  from  Cork,  on  an  elevation  of  eight  hun- 
dred feet,  and  was  erected  by  William  O'Connor,  en- 
tirely at  his  own  expense.  Theobald  Mathew  visited 
London  in  the  year  1843,  and  his  generous  reception 
suggested  the  idea  to  O'Connor,  who  was  present,  to 
erect  a  monument  in  commemoration  of  the  event,'  and 
as  an  honorable  memento  to  future  generations  of  the 
indefatigable  labors  of  the  great  Apostle  of  Temper- 
ance. The  history  of  this  spot  gives  to  the  visitor  a 
double  interest,  especially  so,  when  he  is  told  that  the 
founder  was  a  tailor,  who,  through  his  shears,  was 
enabled  to  give  three  thousand  guineas  for  the  tower 
alone. 

A  few  years  since,  this  now  blooming  garden  of  trees, 
shrubs,  and  flowers,  was  a  wilderness  of  woods,  and 
the  soil  the  most  unpromising.  O'Connor  purchased 
twenty  acres,  cut  down  the  trees,  leaving  a  few  for  or- 
nament, dug  up  the  roots,  and  made  an  entirely  new 
soil,  by  materials  taken  from  the  mud  and  gravel  of  the 
Lee,  at  Cork,  and  planted  this  new-made  land  with 
potatoes,  giving  employment  to  a  great  number  of  men  ; 
and  when  the  harvest  was  gathered  he  made  the  whole 
of  it  as  an  offering  of  the  first  fruits  to  the  poor.  The 
Sisters  of  Mercy  shared  largely  in  this  donation,  as  al- 
moners of  the  gift.  He  then  built  a  neat  cottage, 
which  he  inhabited  with  a  sister,  who  has  since  de- 
ceased. A  fine  gravelly  walk  conducts  the  visitor  from 
the  gate  leading  to  the  cottage  through  a  rich  thicket  of 
laurel,  arbutus,  and  firs,  opening  upon  a  tasteful  flower 
ground,  descending  from  the  cottage,  which  is  ascended 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


253 


by  fourteen  stone  steps  with  iron  railings.  On  the 
right  and  left  from  the  hill,  two  rooms  are  fitted  up  in 
good  modern  taste  for  the  reception  of  visitors.  In 
the  center  of  each  stands  a  table,  one  containing  the 
periodicals  of  the  day,  the  other  only  a  large  ancient 
Bible.  The  walls  are  adorned  with  a  variety  of  pic- 
tures, some  of  which  are  the  best  specimens  of  drawing. 
Two,  which  are  dedicated  to  the  Queen  and  Prince 
Albert,  and  executed  entirely  with  a  pen,  by  McDon- 
nell of  Cork,  are  almost  without  a  parallel.  They 
contain  an  address  by  the  Mayor,  Aldermen,  and 
Council  of  the  city  of  Cork,  on  the  birth  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  in  1841.  They  are  both  executed  in  a 
manner  that  entitles  them  to  a  standing  among  the 
highest  ornamental  works.  A  portrait  of  O'Connor 
hangs  in  the  same  room,  with  one  of  Edim  Forest,  and 
a  few  others,  of  the  best  model.  The  left-hand  room 
represents  the  Queen,  with  an  infant  on  her  lap,  and 
another  child  standing  by  her  side  ;  another  of  the 
Virgin  and  Child  of  peculiar  beauty.  A  frame-work 
containing  the  baptismal  cake  of  one  of  the  Queen's 
children,  and  a  vial  of  caudle.  The  frame  is  lined  on 
the  back  with  a  piece  of  satin,  embroidered  with  the 
crown  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  and  is  a  piece  from  the 
vest  he  wore  ;  the  sides  are  of  embroidered  satin,  like 
that  worn  by  the  Queen,  with  her  crown  wrought  upon 
it,  and  which  is  worn  on  the  baptismal  occasions  of  her 
children.  A  fourth  is  Louis  Philippe  receiving  the 
visit  of  Victoria,  in  France,  beside  two  other  pictures 
not  named.    In  the  hall  hangs  the  picture  of  the  "  tes- 


254 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


timonial"  or  tower,  and  opposite  is  the  monument  of 
Scott. 

In  a  little  opening  at  the  back  of  the  hall,  is  a  glass 
case,  containing  a  choice  collection  of  shells,  and  on  each 
side  from  this  arc  two  nicely-furnished  bed-rooms ; 
these  rooms  with  a  kitchen  include  all  the  dwelling 
part.  Two  wings,  with  artificial  windows,  are  attach- 
ed to  the  cottage ;  the  glass,  frame  and  blind,  are  such 
a  finished  imitation  of  the  reality,  that  one  must  touch 
them  to  be  convinced  of  their  mockery.  Two  winding 
paths  from  the  cottage  lead  up  the  ascent  to  the  monu- 
ment. A  circular  stone-wall  containing  a  small  foun 
tain  is  the  first  object,  in  the  center  of  this  is  a  curi- 
ously-wrought pedestal,  surmounted  by  a  large  basin, 
in  which  is  seated  a  boy,  whose  business  is  to  spirt 
water  from  his  mouth  through  a  small  tube,  when  any 
one  is  so  kind  as  to  open  a  pipe  underground,  by  a 
key,  which  pipe  communicates  with  one  from  the  top  of 
the  tower,  which  conve}Ts  the  water  from  a  cistern  fix- 
ed near  the  top  ;  near  this  fountain  stands  a  boy, 
grasping  in  his  hands  a  snake,  which  is  wound  about 
one  leg  ;  but  the  boy  holds  him  fast  in  defiance  :  this 
is  the  serpent  alcohol.  On  the  right  of  the  boy  stands 
an  angel  to  strengthen  him.  Theobald  Mathew  is 
standing  back,  and  over  this  group,  in  a  figure  larger 
than  life,  with  his  right  hand  pointing  to  the  fountain, 
while  his  left  arm  rests  upon  a  pedestal.  Above  all 
this  stands  the  testimonial,  the  door  facing  the  west. 
Two  dogs  are  resting  upon  a  pedestal  at  the  entrance  ; 
both  are  portraits  of  one  dog,  who  saved  the  lives  of 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


255 


eight  men  who  fell  into  the  Thames.  He  was  elected 
a  member  of  the  Humane  Society  of  London,  and  now 
wears  a  gold  collar.  Next  the  door  stand  two  war- 
riors, one  a  Roman,  the  other  a  British  officer,  repre- 
senting the  two  religions. 

Peeping  over  the  wall  is  the  head  of  a  gray  horse, 
and  around  the  tower  are  various  statues ;  the  first  is 
Fidelity,  represented  by  a  female  with  a  dog  looking 
up  to  her  face  ;  Faith,  with  a  cross  ;  Hope,  with  an  an- 
chor ;  Charity,  with  a  child  in  her  arms  ;  and  Plenty, 
with  a  bunch  of  wheat  in  her  hand. 

The  tower  is  circular,  though  all  in  one  massive  pil- 
lar, yet  it  has  the  appearance  of  two,  one  smaller  and 
taller,  with  the  union  jack  waving  from  the  top.  There 
are  two  apartments  in  this  tower,  the  window  cases  and 
frames  are  of  fluted  oak,  surmounted  by  carved  heads, 
stucco-work  is  over  these,  and  continued  along  the 
ceiling.  Inclosed  in  a  glass  shade,  on  a  rosewood  pe- 
destal, is  a  model  bust  of  the  apostle  Mathew,  and  over 
this,  one  of  the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Murphy,  Bishop  of 
the  Catholic  church.  A  massive  chimney-piece  has 
upon  it  a  basso-relievo  figure  of  Father  Mathew,  hold- 
ing in  one  hand  Britannia,  in  the  other  Erin,  the  em- 
blems of  both  countries  surrounding  them.  A  large 
chandelier  is  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  and  the  upper 
portions  of  the  windows  are  of  stained  glass.  This 
circular  room  is  sixteen  feet  in  diameter. 

This  description  is  minutely  given  because  there  are 
pleasant  and  painful  reminiscences  of  my  visit  to  that 
spot.    Theobald  Mathew  was  there,  he  is  now  in  the 


256 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


land  of  my  Fathers  ;  friends  were  there  that  will  meet 

me  no  more  ;  and  the  generous  heart  was  there  who 
fitted  this  enchanting  elysium  for  the  man  he  so  much 
honored,  and  for  the  happy  resort  of  friends  who  might 
honor  him  too.  The  cottage,  the  garden,  and  testimo- 
nial are  there.  The  hyacinth,  the  rose,  the  holly,  and 
fir,  are  still  blooming  in  fragrance  and  verdure ;  but, 
alas  !  the  heart  that  designed  and  the  hand  that  com- 
pleted them  are  cold  in, the  dust.  That  relentless 
scourge  the  cholera,  which  has  spared  neither  age  nor 
station,  has  laid  him  low  ;  and  who  will  trim  afresh 
that  hill- side,  and  brighten  the  neat  cottage  and  pretty 
summer-house,  for  the  happy  eye  and  sweet  resting 
spot  of  the  visitor  and  stranger  ?  Who  will  keep  open 
the  welcome  gate  that  introduces  to  shrubbery  walks  of 
arbutus  and  flower-beds  ;  and  to  the  chaste  testimonial, 
which  has  been  and  must  be  the  admiration  of  every 
eye  that  has  rested  upon  it  1  Will  it  fall  into  hands 
that  will  add  fresh  garlands  to  honor  the  memory  of 
him  who  erected  it  1  Who  will  still  say  to  every  lover 
of  temperance  and  beauty,  "  Come  in  freely  and  ban- 
quet on  these  delights  of  nature  and  of  art  V?  Or 
will  contracted  minds  and  penurious  hearts  close  its 
gates  to  all  but  aristocratic  passports  and  shilling  fees  1 
Let  sacred  respect  for  the  honor  of  the  generous  de- 
parted forbid  it ;  and  let  love  for  the  benevolent  apostle 
to  whom  it  was  dedicated,  forbid  it. 

While  penning  these  pages,  intelligence  of  the  death 
of  O'Connor  was  forwarded  me  by  the  pen  of  one  who 
firgt  introduced  me  to  that  spot,  and  this  circumstance 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


257 


prompts  to  the  insertion  of  the  following  documents,  as 
a  tribute  of  respect  due  to  the  deceased,  and  which  to 
me  are  doubly  valued,  because  this  tribute  did  not  wait 
till  he  to  whom  it  was  owing  should  be  no  more.  What 
a  comment  on  good  sense  and  justice,  what  a  mockery 
of  the  dead,  to  write  eulogiums  and  build  costly  monu- 
ments to  him  who,  while  living,  was  carelessly  neglect- 
ed, or  willfully  despised  !  O'Connor's  history,  as  was 
related  by  a  friend,  was  simply  this  :  He  was  the  son  of 
a  poor  widow,  belonging  to  a  rural  district,  and  was 
early  sent  to  Cork,  where  he  acquired  the  trade  of  a 
tailor,  and  by  persevering  industry,  good  conduct,  and 
economy,  he  became  first  in  the  profession  of  a  mer- 
chant tailor,  and  through  his  shears  he  amassed  a 
handsome  fortune,  before  reaching  the  meridian  of  life. 
With  this  fortune,  let  the  Mathew  Testimonial  tell 
parr  of  the  honorable  use  he  made  of  his  money.  He 
had  no  family,  but  his  attachment  to  friends  was  deep- 
ly manifest  in  the  love  he  bore  toward  the  sister,  who 
lived  with  him  in  the  cottage  on  Mount  Patrick.  He 
left  it  when  she  was  buried,  and  said  he  could  never 
tarry  in  it  another  night,  and  observed  that  it  was 
purely  out  of  respect  to  strangers  that  he  ever  visit- 
ed it. 

The  origin  of  the  letters  which  follow  was  simply 
this :  When  going  over  these  grounds,  through  the  cot- 
tage, and  through  the  tower,  but  one  item  seemed  to  be 
wanting  to  make  the  whole  complete,  that  was,  a  few 
choice  literary  books  to  grace  the  center-table  of  that 
otherwise  well-fitted  drawing-room.    It  was  proposed 


258 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


to  a  few  friends,  and  was  done  without  any  intention  of 
display,  or  wish  to  have  it  thus  memorialized.  A  let- 
ter was  sent  me  the  following  day,  and  an  answer  re- 
turned the  next.  They  both  unexpectedly  appeared  in 
print,  in  the  Cork  Examiner,  a  few  days  after,  where 
they  doubtless  would  have  slept  forever,  had  not  the 
death  of  O'Connor  revived  so  painfully  the  visit  to  that 
beautiful  spot. 

If  ever  vanity,  ambition,  or  pride,  have  stimulated 
me  to  seek  notice  or  applause  from  men,  these  propen- 
sities have  been  so  subdued,  that  when  contempt  has 
been  added  to  privation,  I  have  felt  an  inward  grati- 
tude, that  since  in  Ireland  so  few  comparatively  hin- 
dered my  labors  by  false  attentions  and  fulsome  flat- 
teries, which  travelers  too  much  seek  in  foreign  lands  ; 
and  never  should  any  of  the  neglects  or  rudeness  which 
have  been  received  been  recorded ;  were  it  not  that 
the  character  of  the  people  was  the  object  to  find  out 
and  show,  rather  than  to  draw  pity  or  favor  to  my- 
self :— 

THE  MATHEW  TOWER  MRS.  NICHOLSON. 

Last  week,  Mrs.  Nicholson,  now  well  known  by  her 
tour  on  foot  through  Ireland,  and  the  very  interesting 
book  which  she  has  written  descriptive  of  her  wander- 
ings, paid  a  visit  to  Mount  Patrick.  She  was  accom- 
panied by  some  friends.  She  was  met  by  the  Very 
Rev.  Mr.  Mathew,  Mr.  O'Connor,  the  hospitable  pro- 
prietor, and  some  other  gentlemen.  After  visiting  the 
Tower,  which  is  now  superbly  finished,  and  promises  to 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


259 


stand  in  firmness  and  durability,  for  the  next  five  hun- 
dred years,  and  perambulating  the  grounds  which  arc 
laid  out  in  a  highly  ornamental  style,  the  parties  par- 
took of  lunch,  which  consisted  principally  of  fruits  and 
coffee.  Mrs.  Nicholson,  and  the  friend  who  accom- 
panied her,  are,  besides  being  strict  total  abstainers, 
also  vegetarians,  disciples  of  a  strict  dietetic  school,  in 
which  no  animal  food  is  permitted.  The  object  of  her 
visit  was  then  announced  ;  it  was  to  present  to  Mr. 
O'Connor,  a  small  but  beautiful  select  library,  in  tes- 
timony of  her  ardent  respect  for  the  cause  and  the 
Apostle  of  Temperance,  and  in  kindly  appreciation  of 
the  services  and  worth  of  Mr.  O'Connor,  who  not  only 
built  a  testimonial  unexampled  in  the  history  of  such 
memorials  erected  by  private  individuals,  but  with  a 
hospitality  that  cannot  be  over-estimated,  throws  open 
his  grounds  daily  to  the  public.  Mrs.  Nicholson  pre- 
sented the  following  short  address  : — 

6t  These  volumes  are  presented  by  a  few  friends  of 
temperance,  in  grateful  acknowledgment  of  his  gene- 
rosity in  throwing  open  his  tasteful  and  beautiful  place 
to  the  public,  and  for  the  purpose  of  affording  a  profit- 
able recreation  to  its  numerous  visitors  ;  with  a  desire 
that  the  lovely  spot  may  be  ever  sacred  to  that  glorious 
cause,  to  whose  most  successful  and  untiring  advocate 
it  has  been  dedicated,  and  to  the  advancement  of  uni- 
versal philanthropy. 

"  Cork,  August  28th,  1848." 


260 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


The  reply  was  as  follows  : — 

Madam, — I  receive  the  books  with  pride  and  pleas- 
ure. The  subject  of  each  volume,  and  the  names  of 
the  authors  remarkable  in  our  literature  for  their  genius 
or  scientific  knowledge,  are  the  best  tests  of  your  own 
pure  taste  and  judgment. 

Ten  years  have  elapsed  since  I  found  this  spot  a 
wilderness — four  since  a  monument,  I  hope  an  endur- 
ing one,  has  been  erected,  to  perpetuate,  in  a  small  de- 
gree, the  true  greatness  and  glory  of  the  Christian 
benefactor  of  Ireland.  As  that  monument  belongs  to 
him  and  the  public  and  as  those  grounds,  which  you 
and  others  have  been  pleased  to  eulogize,  are  but  the 
abiding  place  of  the  Tower  of  Temperance,  so  my 
gates  have  never  been  closed,  and  never  shall  be, 
against  visitors,  whether  they  be  residents  of  our  own 
favored  but  unfortunate  land,  or  citizens  of  Europe,  or 
of  your  own  great  country. 

It  is  a  singular  spectacle  to  witness — a  lady  gently 
nurtured  and  brought  up,  giving  up,  for  a  time,  home 
and  country  and  kindred — visiting  a  land  stricken  with 
famine — traversing  on  foot  that  land  from  boundary  to 
boundary — making  her  way  over  solitary  mountains 
and  treading  through  remote  glens,  where  scarcely  the 
steps  of  civilization  have  reached,  sharing  the  scanty 
potato  of  the  poor  but  hospitable  people,  and  lying 
down  after  a  day  of  toil,  in  the  miserable  but  secure 
cabin  of  a  Kerry  or  Connaught  peasant.  All  this  is 
unusual.  But  above  it  shines,  with  a  steady  light, 
your  sympathy,  your  benevolence,  your  gentleness  of 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


261 


heart,  and  your  warm  appreciation  of  the  virtues,  rude 
but  sincere,  of  a  people  whose  condition  it  is  neces- 
sary to  improve,  in  order  to  make  them  contented  and 
happy. 

The  first  step  to  raise  them  socially,  to  create  in 
them  self-respect,  and  elevate  their  shrewdness  into 
the  wisdom  of  morality,  has  been  taken  by  the  man 
whom  you  revered  so  much,  and  to  whom  and  not  to 
me,  you  have  this  day  paid  a  grateful  and  graceful 
tribute.  May  he  live  forever  in  the  memories  of  his 
country ! 

You  are  about  to  depart  for  your  own  great  country, 
because  you  could  not  witness  again  the  desolation  of 
another  famine.  But  you  will  carry  back  from  Ire- 
land the  heartfelt  sense  of  her  people  for  past  kindness, 
to  your  Christian  countrymen.  To  them,  to  the  gener- 
ous people  of  England,  and  to  the  Society  of  Friends 
in  England,  Ireland  and  America,  we  are  indebted, 
but  utterly  unable  to  discharge  the  debt. 

Again,  Madam,  expressing  my  deep  sense  of  your 
kindness  and  personal  worth,  and  wishing  you  many 
happy  years  in  your  beloved  America, 
I  beg  to  subscribe  myself, 

Your  grateful  servant, 

William  O'Connor. 

Mount  Patrick,  August  2>lst,  1848. 

TO   WILLIAM  O'CONNOR. 

Sir, — The  unmerited  compliment  you  publicly  be- 
stowed on  a  stranger,  in  the  last  week's  Examiner,  de- 


262  ANNALS  OF  THE 

serves  a  public  acknowledgment,  and  the  more  cheer- 
fully given,  because  it  affords  an  opportunity  of  saying, 
that  not  to  me  alone  is  the  honor  due  of  the  small  be- 
stowmcnt  of  books  upon  your  table.  It  says,  "  there 
are  hearts  in  Cork  that  do  appreciate  the  Mathew  Tes- 
timonial, as  well  as  the  noble  generosity  of  the  man 
who  designed  it,  and  though  small  the  offering,  it  may 
be  the  prelude  to  more  liberal  demonstrations  of  a  peo- 
ple's gratitude." 

These  few  volumes,  it  is  hoped,  are  but  the  alphabet 
to  a  Avell  chosen  library  that  shall  one  day  grace  a 
room  in  the  Tower,  affording  the  citizen  and  the  stran- 
ger a  profitable,  as  well  as  a  pleasant  recreation. 

And  now,  sir,  allow  me  to  sa}T,  that  in  a  four  years' 
tour  through  this  beautiful  isle,  from  the  Donegal  sea 
to  Cape  Clear — from  the  mountains  of  Wicklow  to  the 
Killery  Peaks,  I  have  never  seen  from  the  top  of  man- 
sion or  castle  a  flag  so  gracefully  waving — a  flag  on 
which  is  inscribed  so  much  love  of  country — so  much 
just  appreciation  of  worth — and  so  much  that  deserves 
the  appellation  of  "  Well  done,"  as  that  which  is  fly- 
ing in  the  breeze  from  the  tower  of  Mount  Patrick,  and 
should  my  eyes  ever  again  look  out  upon  the  proud 
mountains  and  waters  of  my  own  native  land,  when 
memory  shall  revert  to  the  summer  of  1848,  the  bright- 
est and  happiest  associations  will  be — the  hours  passed 
in  the  Cottage  and  tower,  the  garden  and  walks  dedi- 
cated to  the  man  who  lives  for  humanity.  And  though 
I  return  to  my  people  with  a  sorrowing  heart,  that  the 
tear  is  still  on  the  long  wasted  cheek  of  Erin,  yet  this 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


263 


shall  be  my  joy,  that  there  live  among  her  country- 
lovirig  sons,  hearts  that  can  feel  and  hands  that  can 
act,  when  worth  and  virtue  make  the  demand,  and  to 
the  proud  monument  of  Mount  Patrick  will  I  point  as 
a  witness,  to  all  who  may  sail  up  the  green  banks  of 
the  sweet-flowing  Lee. 

When  the  hand  of  Theobald  Mathew  shall  cease  to 
rest  on  the  head  of  the  pledge-taking  postulant,  and 
when  he  shall  have  been  gathered  to  the  dust  of  his 
fathers — when  the  generous  heart  that  devised  the  last- 
ing memorial  shall  have  stopped  its  pulsation  forever — ■ 
on  every  health-blowing  breeze  that  fans  the  flag  of 
Mount  Patrick,  shall  be  whispered — "  Peace  to  the 
Apostle  of  Temperance,  who  said  to  the  wine-maddened 
brain  of  the  maniac,  Peace  be  still,  who  wiped  the 
tear  from  the  face  of  heart-stricken  woman,  and  who 
*  lifted  up  him  that  was  ready  to  fall.'  " 

And  when  from  heaven's  high  battlement  his  gentle 
spirit  shall  look  down  on  this  Tower,  future  generations 
shall  rise  in  succession  and  call  him  "  blessed." 

And  let  their  long-sounding  echo  reverberate  over 
mountain  and  glen,  "  honor  and  gratitude  to  William 
O'Connor." 

Asenath  Nicholson. 
Ireland  ■  I  love  thee  still." 

September  4M,  1848. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


"  Oh!  could  we  from  death  but  recover." 
THE    GRAVE    OF   CHARLES  WOLFE. 

It  was  in  the  cottage  of  Dr.  Power  that  unexpect- 
edly the  sweet  strains  of  the  "  Soldier's  Grave  "  were 
struck  by  Mrs.  P.,  and  awakened  again  those  sensa- 
tions which  were  stirred,  when  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
a  few  days  before  sailing  for  Ireland,  I  heard  them  for 
the  first  time ;  and  here  was  told  that  the  author  was 
sleeping  in  a  humble  burying-ground  but  two  miles 
from  the  spot. 

In  two  days  Mrs.  P.  accompanied  me  to  the  stran- 
gers' churchyard  adjoining  an  old  crumbling  ivy-cov- 
ered ruin  of  a  church,  where  sleep  together  in  a  rank 
grass-grown  spot,  the  sailor  and  the  soldier  who  dies 
from  home,  in  this  harbor,  and  where  seldom  a  foot 
tramples  on  the  wild  weed  that  grows  tall  in  the  uneven 
inclosure  where  they  sleep.  Here  and  there  a  coarse 
monument  tells  that  Captain  M.,  or  Lieutenant  G. 

died  in  this  harbor,  Anno  Domini,  ,  but  Charles 

Wolfe  was  not  among  them,  his  wTas  a  bed  detached, 
and  confined  within  the  wall  of  one  corner  of  the  church, 
with  a  humble  flat  stone  over  his  breast.    The  roof  of 


THE  FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


265 


the  church  is  gone,  and  the  entrance  to  his  grave,  when 
the  sexton  is  not  there  to  unlock  it,  is  over  the  wall  by 
climbing  a  ladder.  A  look  through  the  key-hole  showed 
that  luxuriant  weeds  and  stones  from  the  crumbling 
wall  had  well-nigh  concealed  the  epitaph,  which  told 
his  age  and  death.  His  short  story  was  easily  re- 
hearsed ;  for  like  all  true  merit,  he  was  unostentatious, 
and  asked  not  that  the  world  should  honor  him.  His 
birth-place  was  Dublin,  in  1791,  a  descendant  of  the 
military  hero  Wolfe,  who  was  slain  at  Quebec.  He  was 
sent  to  Bath,  in  England,  in  1801,  to  school,  where  his 
mother  removed  at  the  death  of  his  father,  then  to  Dr. 
Evans's,  then  to  Winchester,  where  his  amiable  dispo- 
sition made  him  greatly  beloved,  and  his  classical  at- 
tainments gained  him  great  distinction  without  flatter- 
ing his  vanity.  He  never  in  one  instance  received  a 
reprimand  from  a  teacher,  and  his  sister  adds,  that  to 
her  recollection  he  never  acted  contrary  to  his  mother's 
wishes  during  his  life.  He  cheerfully  gave  up  the  idea 
of  a  military  profession,  which  he  had  imbibed,  because 
he  found  it  was  unpleasant  to  his  mother.  In  1808 
the  family  returned  to  Ireland,  and  in  1809  he  entered 
Dublin  College.  He  soon  distinguished  himself  as  a 
poet ;  his  Jugurtha  Incoraratus  was  written  in  the 
first  year  of  college,  the  year  when  his  mother  died,  an 
event  which  left  a  lasting  impression  in  his  heart.  He 
soon  after  won  a  prize  and  became  a  college  tutor, 
obtained  a  scholarship,  and  his  talents  for  prose 
and  verse,  as  well  as  oratory,  soon  manifested  them- 
selves. 


26G 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


The  poem  which  gave  him  such  deserved  celebrity 
was  published  without  his  knowledge,  and  it  originated 
in  his  mind  by  reading  a  paragraph,  as  follows.  Sir 
John  Moore  had  often  said,  that  if  he  was  killed  in 
battle,  he  wished  to  be  buried  where  he  fell. 

"  The  body  was  removed  at  midnight  to  the  citadel 
of  Corunna.  A  grave  was  dug  for  him  on  the  rampart 
there,  by  a  party  of  the  9th  Regiment,  the  aide-de- 
camps attending  by  turns.  No  coffin  could  be  pro- 
cured, and  the  officers  of  his  staff  wrapped  the  body, 
dressed  as  it  was,  in  a  military  cloak  and  blankets. 
The  interment  was  hastened,  for  about  eight  in  the 
morning  some  firing  was  heard,  and  the  officers  feared 
if  a  serious  attack  were  made  they  should  be  ordered 
away,  and  not  suffered  to  pay  him  that  last  duty.  The 
officers  of  his  army  bore  him  to  the  grave — the  funeral 
service  was  read  by  the  chaplain,  and  the  corpse  was 
covered  with  earth." 

Thus  they  buried  him  at  dead  of  night,  and — 

"  He  lay  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest, 
With  his  martial  cloak  about  him." 

His  biographer  says,  had  he  written  no  other  poetry, 
this  poem  would  have  entitled  him  to  the  name  of  poet 
of  poets.  He  had  one  peculiarity  :  in  reading,  he  ana- 
lyzed the  subject  to  its  origin,  and  there  tarried  so  long, 
that  he  seldom  perused  it  to  the  end — he  digested 
thoroughly  what  he  did  read,  but  seldom  read  a  book 
through.  He  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  the 
scenery  of  his  own  country.    Lough  Bray,  Wicklow, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


267 


and  the  Dargle,  have  been  graphically  portrayed  by 
his  pen. 

He  became  pious,  but  humbly  laid  his  attainments 
at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  in  November,  1817,  he 
took  an  obscure  country  curacy  in  the  North,  where 
his  indefatigable  labors  and  affectionate  heart  won  him 
the  love  of  all  his  flock,  especially  the  poor,  but  who 
could  not  appreciate  his  talents,  nor  "  enter  into  the 
deep  feelings  of  his  soul." 

Here  he  labored,  and  here  he  loved  to  labor ;  and 
would  have  died  among  the  simple  flock  he  loved  for 
Christ's  sake  ;  but  his  friends  removed  him  to  the  sea- 
side at  Cove.  His  sermons  were  but  precepts  of  which 
he  was  a  living  example.  His  sickness  and  closing 
scene  were  replete  with  all  that  is  lovely  in  the  Chris- 
tian character.  To  his  relatives  who  stood  round  him, 
he  said,  "  the  peace  of  God  overshadow  them,  dwell  in 
them,  and  reign  over  them and  to  a  relative  who 
hung  over  him,  he  said,  "  Close  this  eye,  the  other  is 
closed  already — and  now  farewell." 

Thus  this  poet  and  Christian  died,  and  thus  is  he 
buried,  in  that  lonely  deserted  place,  among  the  dead 
of  almost  every  clime,  who  have  been  huddled  and 
housed  here,  apart  from  country  and  kindred,  and  where 
few  but  strangers'  feet  ever  tread  the  way  to  their  iso- 
lated resting-place. 

There  was  something  to  me  quite  forbidding  in  the 
associations  that  hung  around  the  grave  of  Charles 
Wolfe,  in  that  deserted  corner  : — 


268 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


uO,  breathe  not  his  name,  let  him  sleep  in  the  shade, 
Where  cold  and  unhonored  his  relics  arc  laid ; 
Sad,  silent,  and  dark  be  the  tears  that  we  shed, 
As  the  night  dew  that  falls  on  the  grass  o'er  his  head." 

The  summer  of  1848  was  pleasant  and  unusually 
sunny,  and  the  hopes  of  the  poor  peasant  revived  as  he 
saw  the  potato  looking  up  again,  in  freshness  and 
strength  ;  but  alas  !  a  few  days  laid  all  his  prospects 
in  the  dust. 

A  brother  of  Theobald  Mathew  had  planted  a  field 
of  twenty-seven  acres,  in  almost  certain  faith  that  they 
would  not  be  blasted ;  for  weeks  they  flourished,  and 
promised  to  yield  an  abundant  crop.  The  poor  people 
in  the  neighborhood  were  blessing  the  good  God  for  the 
beautiful  patch  of  the  u  kind  gintleman,"  and  seemed 
as  happy  as  though  they  were  ripening  for  their  own 
use.  They  have  been  known  to  go  and  look  into  the 
field,  and  take  off  their  hats,  and  in  humble  adoration 
bless  the  name  of  God,  for  his  great  mercy  in  sending 
them  the  potato  again.  This  was  their  usual  practice 
when  they  saw  a  field  looking  vigorous.  But  in  one 
night  the  spoiler  came — this  beautiful  field  in  the  morn- 
ing had,  in  isolated  spots,  the  withering  touch  of  the 
fatal  disease.  In  a  few  days  the  rich  extensive  crop 
would  not  pay  the  laborer  for  his  toil  in  gathering  it. 
All  was  over,  and  in  silent  despondency  each  one 
submitted  to  the  stroke.  The  "  still  small  voice " 
seemed  to  say,  "Be  still,  and  know  that  I  am  God." 
It  was  something  for  which  man  could  not  reprove  his 
brother  ;  and  he  dared  not  reproach  his  God.  - u  And 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


269 


what,"  said  an  old  woman,  sitting  by  her  vegetable 
stall,  "  would  become  of  us  miserable  bodies,  if  God 
Almighty  had  sent  the  blast  on  us,  and  left  the  po- 
tato ?" 

This  was  in  the  autumn  of  1845,  when  but  a  partial 
failure  took  place — the  blast  had  not  then  fallen  on  man  ; 
but  it  did  fall,  and  swept  them  down  as  grass  before 
the  mower's  scythe,  yet  not  one  of  the  victims,  through 
long  months  of  starvation,  was  heard  to  murmur  against 
God.  They  thanked  his  holy  name,  both  when  they  saw 
the  potato  grow  in  luxuriance,  and  when  they  saw  it 
dried,  as  by  a  scorching  heat.  It  was  one  of  the  most 
touching,  striking  features  of  the  famine,  to  see  a  family 
looking  into  a  withered  patch,  which  the  clay  before 
looked  promising,  and  hear  the  exclamations  of  wonder 
and  praise,  weeping  and  thanksgiving,  mingled  to- 
gether, "  He's  sent  the  blast,  blessed  be  his  holy 
name  !"  "  His  blessed  will  be  done — and  we'll  all  die 
with  hunger,  and  praise  God  we're  all  poor  sinners," 
&c.  They  literally  and  practically  carried  out  the 
principle  of  one  in  ancient  days,  who  said,  "  Though 
he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  him ;"  for  though  year 
after  year  they  saw  the  root  on  which  they  and  their 
fathers  had  lived,  melt  away,  yet  they  would  not  be 
persuaded  but  that  the  good  God  would  give  them  the 
potato  again ;  and  in  1846-7-8-9,  when  each  succes- 
sive year  had  produced  the  same  if  not  worse  effects, 
they  yet  persisted  in  saving,  oftentimes  by  stealth, 
some  part  of  a  sound  potato,  to  keep  it  from  the  hun- 
gry mouths  of  their  children,  that  they  might  put  it  in 


270  ANNALS  OF  THE 


the  ground,  and  "  Plaisc  God  we  will  have  the  potato 
again,"  would  be  the  persevering  reply  to  all  expostu- 
lation. So  wedded  are  they  to  this  root,  that  notwith- 
standing many  know  and  deeply  feel  that  it  has  been 
their  rod  of  oppression,  yet  they  emphatically  "  kiss 
the  rod,  and  Him  that  hath  appointed  it and  could 
a  decree  now  go  forth  that  the  potato  should  be  restored 
to  its  pristine  soundness  and  health,  and  that  the 
present  generation  and  their  posterity  forever  should 
feed  on  this  root  exclusively,  and  have  work  six  days 
a-week,  at  fourpence  or  sixpence  a-day,  there  would  be 
a  universal  jubilee  kept  through  mountain  and  glen, 
and  bonfires  would  from  hill-top  to  bog  extinguish  the 
light  of  moon  and  star,  for  many  a  joyful  night.  And 
let  it  be  expected  by  those  who  would  do  good  to  Ire- 
land, and  elevate  her  in  the  scale  of  being,  that  it  will 
be  many  a  long  year  before  the  sickle  will  be  as  joy- 
fully and  heartily  worked  as  the  spade.  This  spade 
has  a  thousand  associations,  entwining  in  and  about  the 
hearts  of  parent  and  child,  which  no  other  instrument 
of  husbandry  can  claim  ;  it  has  cut  the  turf  that  lighted 
up  the  mud-wall  cabin,  and  boiled  the  u  blessed  po- 
tato;" it  has  dug  the  pit  in  front  of  the  cabin  for  the 
duck -pond ;  it  has  piled  the  manure-heap  at  the  cor- 
ner, mountain  high  ;  it  has  planted  the  ridge  which 
furnished  their  daily  bread  ;  it  has  made  the  ditch,  and 
repaired  the  road  ;  it  has  stood  by  the  hearth  or  door 
through  many  a  dark  and  stormy  night,  to  guard  the 
little  stack  for  the  cow  against  the  tithe  gatherer  ;  it 
has  been  a  fireside  and  field-companion  ;  and  above  all, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


271 


and  over  all,  it  has  measured  and  hollowed  out  many  a 
last  sleeping  bed  for  a  darling  child,  a  beloved  husband 
or  wife,  and  in  the  dark  days  of  the  famine  it  has  often 
been  the  only  companion  to  accompany  the  father, 
mother,  husband,  wife,  or  child,  who  has  had  the  corpse 
of  a  hunger-stricken  relative  in  a  sack  or  tied  to  the 
back,  to  convey  it  to  the  dread  uncoffined  pit,  where 
are  tumbled,  in  horrid  confusion,  the  starved  dead  of 
ail  ages. 

The  sickle  has  not  that  claim  to  the  affections  of 
what  is  genteelly  called  the  "  lower  order."  It  is  more 
aristocratic  in  its  station  and  occupation.  It  has  been 
used  in  the  hands  of  the  poor,  to  reap  down  the  fields 
of  the  rich  ufor  naught;"  it  has  cut  the  wheat  and 
the  barley  for  the  tax-gatherer,  the  landlord,  and  the 
surpliced  "  hireling,"  who  "  reaps  where  he  sowed 
not,"  and  u  gathers  where  he  has  not  strewed." 

With  all  these  considerations,  it  must  be  expected 
that  this  instrument  will  be  approached  with  caution, 
if  not  suspicion  ;  and  wonder  not  if  they  feel  like  David, 
when  the  armor  of  Saul  was  put  on  him,  to  go  out  and 
meet  Goliath :  "  I  cannot  go  with  these,  for  I  have  not 
proved  them."  He  who  would  reform,  must  not  only 
know  what  is  to  *be  done,  but  how  it  is  best  to  do  it  ef- 
fectually. The  Irish  will  never  be  laughed  or  preached 
out  of  their  relish  for  the  potato,  neither  should  it  be 
attempted  ;  let  them  love  it — let  them  cultivate  it,  but 
let  it  not  be  like  the  grass  of  the  field  for  the  bullock, 
who  is  adapted  entirely  to  that  food,  and  which  has 
never  failed  to  give  him  a  supply.    Learn  the  Irish  by 


272 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


use  that  they  need  not  relish  the  potato  less,  but  they 
may  love  the  bread  and  other  esculents  more,  that 
should  one  fail,  they  may  turn  to  another  with  con- 
venience. Give  them  good  healthy  food  as  substitutes, 
and  cast  the  musty,  sour  Indian  meal,  with  the  "  black 
bread  "  away — frighten  them  not  with  sickening  dan- 
gerous food,  and  tell  them  it  is  because  they  are  dainty 
and  savage  that  they  do  not  relish  it.  If  what  is  given 
them  be  "  good  enough  for  kings,"  then  let  kings  eat 
it ;  for  if  God  has  "  made  of  one  blood  all  the  nations 
of  the  earth,"  he  may  have  made  the  palate,  too,  some- 
what similar.  If  bread  will  strengthen  John  Russell's 
heart,  it  will  the  "  bog-trotter's  "  also  ;  if  a  fine-spun 
broadcloth,  with  gilt  buttons,  becomes  the  backs  of  the 
Queen's  ministers,  then  surely  a  coarser  texture,  with- 
out patch  or  rent,  would  not  sit  ungracefully  on  the 
shoulders  of  Paddy.  Let  him,  if  made  in  the  image  of 
God,  be  a  man  too  ;  and  let  him  not  be  thought  pre- 
suming, if  he  be  one  of  the  Queen's  subjects,  should  he 
aspire  to  mediocrity  among  the  humblest  who  call 
themselves  so.  If  the  Irish  say  most  heartily,  "  Long 
live  the  Queen,"  let  the  Queen  respond  heartily,  and 
"  while  I  live  I  will  do  good  to  my  Irish  subjects." 
If  the  sixty-two  mud-wall  huts  to  each  hundred  in  the 
worst  parts,  and  twenty-three  in  the  best,  as  Mr. 
Bright  asserts,  look  a  little  untidy  in  an  isle  where 
castles  and  rich  domains  dot  the  green  surface,  why 
not  substitute  the  comely  cottage?  and  if  the  ma- 
nure-heap be  unseemly  to  the  eyes  and  unsavory  to 
the  nose,  plant  in  its  stead  the  vine  and  the  rose — 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


273 


for  be  assured,  in  no  isle  of  the  sea  will  they  bloom 
fairer. 

England  has  held  this  pretty  gem  of  the  ocean  by 
the  cable  of  king  and  queenship  for  centuries,  floating 
and  dashing  alternately  in  the  vascillating  uncertain 
waves  of  hope  and  desperation,  casting  in  oil  when  the 
tempest  runs  highest — pulling  the  cord  gently,  and 
whispering  "  Sister,"  when  she  finds  her  loosening  her 
holdings  to  make  for  a  more  open  sea  ;  and  then  pro- 
mises to  repair  her  breaches,  and  make  her  to  "  sing 
as  in  the  days  of  her  youth."  But  there  she  is,  rock- 
ing and  floating  still,  her  wild  tresses  disheveled,  her 
head  uncovered,  and  her  feet  still  bare.  One  hundred 
and  thirty  years  ago,  she  had  one  hundred  and  sixty 
families  that  had  no  chimneys  in  their  hovels  ;  now  she 
has  sixty-two  in  one  hundred  not  fit  for  man  to  inhabit 
in  one  part,  and  on  an  average  of  something  like  forty  - 
four  or  forty-five  through  the  whole  island,  from  which 
the  beaver  and  woodchuck  might  blush  to  be  found 
peeping.  Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  common 
sense  or  common  decency,  if  she  cannot  be  remodeled, 
if  she  is  rooted  and  grounded  in  her  everlasting  filth, 
her  disgusting  tatters,  and  frightful  rags,  is  she  not  cut 
loose  and  left  to  sink  or  swim,  as  best  she  can  manage  ! 
If  she  can  be  transformed  into  anything  like  comeli- 
ness, why  is  she  hung  out  a  never-fading,  never-dying 
scarecrow  to  all  the  world  beside  ]  If  the  last  four 
years  have  not  turned  her  inside  out,  and  shown  her, 
in  the  face  of  heaven,  to  the  nations  of  the  earth — if 
any  deformity  remains  which  is  yet  to  be  served  up, 
12* 


274 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


for  one,  I  pray,  "  have  mc  excused."  If  England  by 
this  time  do  not  know  of  what  sort  this  her  "  sis- 
ter island"  is,  if  she  do  not  understand  either  her 
disease  or  her  cure,  all  may  be  given  up  as  lost,  for 
until  "  the  elements  shall  melt  with  fervent  heat,"  the 
earth  disclose  her  slain,  and  the  "  sea  give  up  her 
dead,"  can  any  more  that  is  forbidding,  revolting,  and 
even  terrific,  be  held  out  to  the  world,  than  has  that 
island  presented  for  ages  gone  by ;  and  if  she  is  loved, 
why  not  cherish  her  1  if  hated,  why  not  wholly  cast 
her  off  1 

To  the  words  of  the  faithful,  fearless,  warm-hearted 
John  Bright,  let  the  philanthropist  respond — "  Aboli- 
tion of  primogeniture  for  underived  property — registry 
of  property — reduction  of  the  enormous  charges  for 
stamps  for  the  sale  and  purchase  of  land — security  of 
tenure  for  the  practical  laborers  of  the  soil — abolition 
of  the  Established  Church  in  Ireland — extension  of 
the  suffrage — and  reinforcement  of  the  representature 
in  the  Imperial  Parliament. 

"  If  the  aristocracy  of  the  United  Kingdom  have 
heaped  evils  unnumbered  upon  Ireland,  why  should  not 
the  people  of  the  United  Kingdom  make  ample  restitu- 
tion V9  And  let  all  the  people  rise,  and  say  in  one 
united  doxology,  "  Amen,  so  let  it  be." 

WATER  CURE. 

While  lingering  in  and  about  Cork,  among  all  its 
gardens  and  pleasant  walks,  a  spot  two  miles  from 
Blarney  Castle,  well  known  for  the  past  five  years  as 


FAMINE   IN   IRELAND.  275 

the  "  Water  Cure"  establishment,  kept  by  Dr.  Bar- 
ter, should  not  be  passed  over  in  silence.  The  Doctor 
has  persevered  through  and  over  all  prejudices,  suffi- 
cient to  make  the  place  a  very  desirable  one  on  many 
accounts.  Its  location  is  well  chosen,  standing  on  an 
airy,  sightly  eminence,  looking  down  upon  the  rich 
vales  and  woods  of  Blarney,  its  own  backwoods  left, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  foot-paths  and  seats,  to 
its  natural  wildness  ;  its  picturesque  bathing-house  or 
cottage,  and  its  cultivated  farm,  of  which  the  Doctor 
is  the  principal  manager,  make  it,  taken  as  a  whole,  a 
place  of  interesting  resort.  The  house  for  patients  is 
large  and  pleasant,  its  inmates  made  up  of  such  as 
have  hope  if  not  faith,  that  plunging  and  dipping, 
showering  and  drinking  cold  water,  possesses  special,  if 
not  super-excellencies  in  the  healing  way,  when  applied 
scientifically,  more  than  when  old  Dame  Nature,  in 
her  homespun  manner,  tells  them  to  drink  when  they 
arc  thirsty,  and  wash  when  they  are  smutty.  His 
terms  are  calculated  better  for  the  purses  of  the  higher 
classes  than  for  the  poorer  sort,  consequently  he  does 
not  keep  a  hospital  of  charity,  and  those  who  resort 
there  for  a  time,  find  good  intelligent  compan}T,  and 
when  not  made  into  mummies,  or  ducking  and  sweating, 
can  walk  or  ride,  read  or  chat,  as  they  may  find  it 
most  congenial.  The  table  is  abundantly  supplied 
with  eatables,  so  that  flesh-eaters  as  well  as  anti-flesh- 
eaters  may  have  all  they  can  rationally  ask,  the  only 
prohibition  being  tea  and  coffee.  Many  have  tested 
the  efficacy  and  declared  it  good,  and  it  would  seem 


276  ANNALS  OF  THE 

impossible  -that  a  summer  could  be  passed  on  that 
mountain,  with  the  pure  breezes  of  Ireland  fanning  the 
blood,  and  the  sparkling  water  kissing  the  skin,  and 
not  be  "  cured  of  whatever  disease  he  had,"  if  the  dis- 
ease had  not  passed  the  healing  art. 

The  Doctor  is  a  great  agriculturist,  and  if  he  had 
the  bogs  and  hunting-grounds  made  over  to  him,  fam- 
ine if  not  pestilence  would  vanish  from  that  rich  soil. 
He  thinks  much  and  talks  when  disposed,  and  is  physi- 
ologist enough  to  know  that  flesh  and  gravies  are  not 
the  food  suited  to  the  system  of  any  invalid  ;  yet  with 
a  desire  to  please,  or  to  retain  invalids  in  his  house,  he 
practices  these  inconsistencies,  as  he  candidly  acknowl- 
edges them. 

A  week  was  pleasantly  passed  in  the  house  and  upon 
the  premises  ;  and  were  a  spot  preeminently  happy  for 
everything  needful  and  social  to  be  chosen,  that  might 
be  the  one  to  meet  all  cases.  Whoever  is  devotional 
may  have  his  Bible  and  prayers  ;  whoever  is  merry  may 
have  psalms  and  the  piano ;  whoever  wants  exercise 
may  find  battledoors,  swings,  and  woody  walks ;  and 
whoever  wants  bathing  can  find  bathing-tubs,  and  cold 
or  warm  water. 

friend's  funeral. 

A  funeral  under  any  circumstances,  or  among  any 
people,  whether  Christian  or  pagan,  has  a  solemnity 
which  casts  a  shade,  for  a  moment  at  least,  over  all 
levity ;  and  never  probably  in  war  or  peace,  in  pomp 
or  destitution,  among  civilized  or  uncivilized,  was  there 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


277 


a  procession  bearing  to  its  last  home  a  body  from  which 
the  soul  had  fled,  which  did  not  produce  on  the  minds 
of  the  multitude  a  check  if  not  a  reflection,  that  the 
"  deep,  damp  vault,"  where  the  departed  is  about  to 
be  shut  from  the  light  of  the  world  and  the  converse  of 
his  fellow-men,  was  a  mysterious  hiding-place,  into 
which  secret  the  souls  of  the  living  did  not  wish  to 
enter. 

It  was  about  midsummer  on  a  sunny  morning,  when 
looking  from  the  door  of  William  Martin,  in  Cork,  a 
procession  unexpectedly  moved  before  my  vision,  and 
never  in  the  short  space  of  a  moment  did  more  painful 
and  pleasant  remembrances  pass  in  review.  Painful, 
because  were  again  presented  the  friends,  who  in  my 
native  land,  one  by  one  as  they  departed,  rose  in  suc- 
cession before  me,  and  because  I  knew  there  were  sor- 
rowing hearts  in  that  train — and  mine  well  knew  the 
pangs  of  such ;  but  pleasant,  because  in  the  come- 
ly throng,  who  with  slow  and  solemn  step  measured  the 
distance,  the  unnatural  custom  which  mock  fashion  has 
introduced  was  not  manifest.  Woman  was  in  that 
procession,  precisely  the  procession  where  she  belongs 
— woman,  whose  heart  emphatically  can  "  weep  with 
those  that  weep," — woman,  who  loves  to  the  last,  and 
acts  to  the  last ;  why,  tell  us  why,  should  she  not  fol- 
low to  the  narrow,  dark  house,  the  relative  she  has 
cherished,  or  the  neighbor  she  has  valued  and  loved  ; 
the  friend  with  whom  she  may  have  taken  "  sweet 
counsel,  and  walked  to  the  house  of  God  in  company  V 
Why  should  she  not  go  "  in  company"  now  "  to  the 


278 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


house  appointed  for  all  living,"  and  where  she  shall, 
in  her  own  due  time,  be  transported  ?  Pleasant,  too, 
because  the  vain  trappings  of  hireling  undertakers, 
"  nodding  plumes,"  mourning  horses  and  black  hearses 
were  not  there.  It  was  simply  and  truly  a  Friend's 
funeral. 

Not  stopping  to  inquire  the  name  or  age  of  the  de- 
ceased, or  who  would  accompany  me,  I  crossed  the 
street  and  joined  the  procession.  Like  the  burial  in 
the  city  of  Nain  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  "  much 
people  of  the  city"  were  there.  A  mile  or  more 
through  the  town,  gave  time  for  that  reflection  so  suita- 
ble and  profitable  when  the  soul  is  necessarily  sum- 
moned to  the  face  of  that  "  King  of  Terrors,"  and 
there  interrogated  as  to  its  present  state  and  future 
destiny.  Slowly  and  silently  the  entrance  to  that  in- 
closure,  where  the  dead  were  congregated,  was  opened 
and  passed ;  and  as  with  the  pen  of  a  diamond  was 
that  panorama  impressed  on  my  eye  and  heart.  It 
was  a  square  of  smooth  green,  with  the  exception  of 
the  unpretending  hillocks,  which  without  a  stone  told 
that  the  dead  lay  there.  The  whole  inclosure  was 
surrounded  by  trees  of  rich  summer  foliage  ;  these,  as 
they  waved  gracefully  over  the  wall,  shed  a  trembling 
shadow  upon  the  emerald  covering  of  the  beds  of  the 
sleeping,  and  the  still  house  of  death  was  quietly  ap- 
proached, and  every  member  of  that  Society  sat  down 
together  to  this  mourning  feast,  and  there  in  solemn 
sweet  silence  waited  to  hear  what  God  would  say.  The 
narrow  bed  was  open  before  them — the  plain  coffin  that 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


279 


inclosed  the  body  of  the  dead  was  waiting  to  enter — an 
interval  of  some  thirty  minutes  of  solemn  silence  was 
broken  by  a  deep-toned  measured  voice  ;  and  never  be- 
fore did  the  words,  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  that  die  in 
the  Lord,"  so  sweetly,  so  solemnly,  so  unearthly,  fall 
on  my  ear — as  if  standing  on  the  Isle  of  Patmos,  the 
voice  that  spake  to  John,  seemed  to  reverberate  through 
that  assembly,  that  to  me  appeared  as  if  already  stand- 
ing on  "  Mount  Zion  before  the  Lamb."  The  sen- 
tences were  short  and  pithy,  and  from  them  I  ascer- 
tained that  the  departed  before  us  was  an  aged  female, 
who  had  fulfilled  as  a  faithful  hireling  her  day,  and 
had  come  to  the  grave  "  like  a  shock  of  corn  fully 
ripe."  He  praised  her  not  in  studied  eulogiums — he 
held  her  not  up  between  us  and  the  Lamb  who  re- 
deemed her,  as  a  bright  pattern  for  our  imitation  ;  but 
he  said  deeply  and  emphatically,  "  Yea,  they  rest  from 
their  labors  and  their  works  do  follow  them."  He 
dwelt  a  moment  on  that  sweet  rest  prepared  for  the 
people  of  God,  and  if  any  were  there  who  had  not 
entered  into  it,  surely  they  must  then  have  felt  a  de- 
sire. 

He  was  followed  by  one  who  addressed  the  Majesty 
of  heaven  with  that  adoration  which  always  marks  the 
manner  of  one  whose  supplications  emanate  from  the 
deep  working  of  the  Holy  Spirit  within  the  soul,  and 
that  speaks  because  it  feels,  and  feels  because  it  has 
something  to  feel.  It  was  done — the  coffin  was  care- 
fully let  down  to  its  long  resting-place — "  Dust  to 
dust "  met,  green  sod  was  fitly  placed  on  her  breast, 


» 


280 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


nor  was  tjie  silence  in  the  least  broken  till  all  had 
passed  the  inclosurc. 

I  would  not  exchange  that  hour  for  a  thousand  dinner 
parties  of  fashionable  professors,  or  pompous  burials  of 
the  titled  great,  who  have  lived  but  to  be  honored,  and 
whose  true  epitaph  could  only  be — 

"  He  lived  and  died." 

The  time  was  drawing  nigh  when  effects  must  be 
gathered,  and  Cork  must  be  left.  The  season  had 
been  spent  most  pleasantly  and  profitably,  for  culti- 
vated minds  were  ever  at  hand,  and  hospitable  boards 
were  always  made  welcome.  To  designate  who  was 
the  kindest,  would  be  a  difficulty  wholly  uncalled  for, 
as  all  and  every  one  were  more  than  courteous.  Just- 
ice compels  an  acknowledgment  of  one  distinguished 
favor,  which  was  and  is  more  prized  for  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  done.  The  Irish,  I  have  before  remarked, 
are  in  their  habit  of  giving,  most  nobly  removed  from 
an  ostentatious  display,  or  from  a  manner  which  makes 
the  recipient  feel  that  he  is  so  deeply  indebted  that  he 
can  never  be  discharged. 

In  the  year  1845,  I  stopped  in  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Fisher,  who  generously  refused  any  compensation ; 
when  the  second  visit  was  made  to  that  city,  I  again 
took  lodgings  with  her,  determining  to  pay  ;  but  as  she 
was  generous  in  the  first  instance,  I  did  not  inquire 
terms,  lest  she  might  suppose  it  an  indirect  suggestion 
for  a  second  gift.  On  my  departure  the  bill  was  called 
for,  fifteen  weeks'  uncontrolled  access  to  drawing-room 


• 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


281 


or  parlor,  and  good  lodging.  Not  a  shilling  was  de- 
manded and  not  a  shilling  would  she  accept.  This  was 
hospitality,  apparently  "  without  grudging,"  and  cer- 
tainly without  display. 

I  sailed  from  that  harbor  with  a  heart  full  of  grati- 
tude to  all  with  whom  I  had  been  conversant,  and  full 
of  sorrow,  that  my  eyes  would  never  again  see  those 
kind  friends  who  had  made  my  stay  so  pleasant,  and 
the  last  farewell  of  the  kind  Theobald  Mathew,  and 
the  hospitable,  intelligent  Beales,  who  were  ready  at 
the  packet,  was  the  finishing  touch  to  sensations  already 
too  pressing  upon  me. 

The  captain  had  generously  given  my  passage,  and 
ordered  the  steward  to  see  that  all  and  everything  was 
prepared  for  my  comfort.  This,  by  my  own  negligence, 
or  in  some  other  way,  was  not  performed,  and  the  night 
to  me  was  a  sad  one.  When  all  had  stepped  on  shore, 
and  the  ring  of  the  packet  bell  died  on  the  ear,  I  sat 
down  upon  the  side  of  the  vessel,  and  with  feelings 
much  like  those  when  sailing  out  of  New  York,  a  pas- 
sive, stoical  indifference,  amounting  almost  to  selfish- 
ness, passed  over  me ;  and  I  turned  away,  and  could 
not  or  would  not  look  upon  the  sweet  hills  that  hung 
over  the  Lee,  and  scarcely  did  I  see  the  wave  of  the 
handkerchiefs  on  that  lovely  South  Terrace,  as  the 
steamer  sailed,  where  I  had  enjoyed  so  much.  The 
passage  was  rough,  the  wind  high,  and  the  night  long, 
cold  and  dreary.  Wrapping  my  cloak  about  me,  I  had 
reclined  under  a  little  awning  on  the  deck,  not  once 
asking  for  a  berth  in  the  cabin,  and  not  till  a  stranger 


282 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


aroused  me,  and  said,  "  It  is  both  imprudent  and  late 
to  be  stopping  here,"  did  my  stupor  leave  me  in  the 
least.  Then  it  was  too  late  to  find  a  bed,  and  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night  was  passed  as  uncomfortably  as  it 
commenced. 

It  was  not  wholly  the  parting  with  kind  friends,  or 
shutting  my  eyes  forever  on  waters,  flowers,  rich  val- 
leys and  hills,  that  so  unnerved  me  ;  but  it  was  Ire- 
land, that  land  of  song  and  of  sorrow,  that  I  was  leav- 
ing forever.  It  was  Ireland,  where  I  had  been  so 
strangely  sent,  so  strangely  preserved,  and  to  which  I 
was  so  strangely  linked,  by  sights  of  suffering  and  un- 
paralleled woe.  It  was  Ireland  that  was  still  drinking 
that  fathomless  cup  of  misery  extreme,  whose  bottom 
has  yet  never  been  sounded,  and  whose  brim  is  still 
running  over,  welling  up  and  oozing  out,  in  spite  of 
long  and  deep  draughts  continually  tasted.  The  visitor 
among  strangers,  who  is  receiving  tokens  of  kindness 
and  presents  of  remembrance,  in  the  routine  of  other 
engagements  may  not  examine  and  appreciate  all  in 
possession,  till  the  hurry  is  past,  the  visit  ended  ;  and 
then  coolly  and  calmly  the  parcel  is  opened,  and  every 
memento,  however  valuable  or  trifling,  has  a  just  esti- 
mate, if  judgment  be  competent  to  the  task.  My  par- 
cel was  left  untouched  that  night ;  passive,  enduring, 
as  if  covered  suddenly  by  an  avalanche,  which  only  left 
room  for  breathing,  with  no  room  for  struggling,  was 
all  that  could  effectually  be  done. 

The  morning  found  me  in  Dublin  ;  and  here  new 
trials  were  in  waiting.    My  trunk,  containing  nearly 


all  that  was  valuable  in  wearing  apparel,  was  left  in  the 
care  of  the  poor  woman  where  I  had  lodged  through  the 
winter.  She  had  before  been  intrusted  with  it,  and 
her  honesty  had  never  been  doubted.  Her  husband 
had  become  intemperate,  and  she  had  been  placed  in 
this  great  house  by  the  landlady  to  keep  it,  and  wait 
on  lodgers,  who  paid  her  what  they  saw  fit.  The 
lodgers  had  left,  all  but  one,  and  she  had  no  resources ; 
her  children,  three  in  number,  were  crying  for  bread. 
She  went  to  the  trunk,  took  a  dress,  and  carried  it  to 
one  of  the  nuisances — a  pawnbroker's — and  procured 
bread.  She  took  a  second  and  third,  until  the  trunk 
was  emptied  of  garments  to  the  number  of  fourteen,  to- 
gether with  a  few  valuable  books  and  other  etceteras, 
among  winch  was  a  silver  teaspoon,  which  had  seen 
nearly  half  a  century,  and  had  been  the  admiration 
of  many  a  Connanght  and  Kerry  wight,  when  sitting 
with  them  around  the  basket  of  potatoes.  This* 
which  was  carried  in  my  pocket,  wrapped  in  clean  pa- 
per, served  for  knife  and  fork,  tea-cup,  plate,  and  sau- 
cer, during  every  tour  over  mountain  and  bog.  Blessed 
companion  !  it  had  become  u  part  and  parcel w  of  my- 
self ;  beside  it  was  a  true  born  American,  and  had  an 
indenture  made  by  an  agonized  child  when  in  the  act 
of  taking  medicine.    Sacred  relic  ! 

Bridget  met  me  at  the  door— -the  usual  gladness  and 
hearty  salutation  were  wanting.  "How  are  yon, 
Bridget,  and  how  are  the  children  ]*'  was  answered 
by,  "  Bad  enough,  God  know3  ;  and  bad  luck  to  you." 
u  What  luck  to  me  T  "    "  Your  clothes  are  gone,  and  I 


284 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


couldn't  help  it."  Not  in  the  least  suspecting  her  in- 
tegrity, the  natural  inquiry  was,  "  Has  the  house  been 
robbed?"  Frankly,  she  replied,  "No,  but  I  have 
taken  them  ;  my  children  were  starving  with  hunger  ; 
I  found  the  trunk  open,  which  a  painter  who  went  into 
the  chamber  opened,  as  I  supposed.  You  had  long 
been  gone,  it  was  uncertain  when  you  would  return, 
and  I  might  and  should  redeem  them  in  a  few  weeks, 
and  they  are  all  in  the  pawn."  The  cause  and  effect 
were  both  before  me  in  a  true  light,  and  the  question 
is  left  to  mothers,  how  they  might  have  acted  in  a  case 
like  this.  She  had  heard  me  say  that  life  was  more 
valuable  than  property,  and  when  that  was  in  peril, 
property  became  the  moral  right  of  him  who  had  tried 
every  expedient  to  save  life,  but  especially  when  the 
taking  of  it  did  not  threaten  the  same  condition  of  that 
in  which  he  was  placed.  She  had  said,  "  I  will  never 
see  my  children  die  for  bread  ;  I  will  work,  T  will  beg, 
and  when  neither  will  do,  I  would  go  and  stand  on  that 
bridge  (which  was  under  the  window),  and  if  asking 
would  not  do,  I  would  seize  the  first  that  my  hands 
could  wrench  from  any  one  passing."  She  had  flung 
me  back  on  my  principles,  by  acting  up  to  hers,  and 
what  could  be  said.  She  could  have  been  transported  ; 
and  the  whole  city,  who  knew  the  affair,  and  had  never 
been  hungry,  neither  entered  into  her  starving  case  nor 
pitied  me  for  my  foolish  forbearance.  The  rich  land- 
lady who  had  recommended  her  to  me  coolly  said  she 
would  put  her  out  of  the  house,  and  she  did  so  ;  and  I 
found  poor  Bridget  in  a  miserable  hovel,  with  no  means 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


285 


of  support,  and  regretted  that  the  landlady  had  ever 
known  the  circumstance.  All  the  garments  but  one 
were  found,  but  many  of  them  too  mildewed  to  be  worth 
redeeming  ;  the  missing  one  was  the  best,  and  doubt- 
less was  taken  by  the  painter.  But  the  spoon — ah, 
the  lucky  spoon  !  It  is  now  in  a  closet,  where  I  am 
sitting,  in  London,  doubly,  yes,  trebly  valued  for  its 
extensive  travels  and  fortunate  escapes.  I  look  at  it, 
and  think  of  the  peasant  children,  and  the  potato,  and 
poor  Bridget  and  the  pawnbroker. 

The  reader  is  left  to  name  this  tale  "  Lights"  or 
"  Shades  "  of  Ireland,  as  best  suits  his  principles  ;  for 
myself,  in  my  heart,  I  could  not  pronounce  the  woman 
a  thief,  and  would  as  soon  have  trusted  her  in  all  com- 
mon cases  after  this  as  before,  and  am  glad  that  her 
children  did  not  starve  when  my  garments  were  lying 
useless. 

The  time  for  a  little  review  of  the  past,  and  prepara- 
tion for  the  future,  had  now  come.  Ireland  had  been 
explored,  and  England  was  in  prospect.  The  Ameri- 
cans had  written  that  the  last  donation  was  on  the 
ocean,  and  probably  no  more  would  be  sent.  Why 
should  my  stay  be  protracted  ;  for  the  inward  voice 
was  continually  urging,  "  I  have  finished  the  work  that 
thou  gavest  me  to  do."  Far,  far  be  it  from  me  to  say 
that  this  work  was  well  finished  ;  many,  many  mistakes 
might  be  corrected,  but  this  I  would  candidly  and  hum- 
bly say,  they  were  not  willful,  but  ignorant  or  misjudg- 
ing ones.  So  faithful  was  conscience  in  her  scrutiniz- 
ing, that  hours,  yes  days,  when  sitting  alone  in  a  cham- 


286 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


bcr  at  Richard  Webb's,  preparing  for  London,  she 
would  ask,  and  earnestly  too,  Had  I  done  what  I 
could  ? — had  I  not  sometimes  consulted  my  own  ease  % 
— had  I  lahored  to  the  extent,  with  hands,  feet,  money, 
tongue,  pen,  and  influence,  to  do,  by  little  or  by  great 
means,  what  my  Master  had  required  1 — had  I  not 
sometimes,  when  condemning  the  whisky-drinking  and 
wine-bibbing  of  the  clergy  and  gentry,  spent  a  penny 
on  some  little  relish  to  take  with  my  bread,  when  that 
penny  would  have  given  a  poor  laboring  man  a  pound 
of  meal,  and  my  bread  could  have  been  taken  without 
it  ?  had  I  not  burned  a  candle  an  hour,  when  neither 
reading  or  working,  or  put  an  additional  piece  of  turf 
on  the  grate,  when  the  poor,  sick,  dying  cabiners  had 
not  either  ? — had  I  not  paid  a  shilling  for  riding,  when 
my  feet  were  able  for  the  journey  1  But  above  all,  that 
trunk  of  clothes  !  When  packing  it  to  leave,  the  ques- 
tion was  suggested,  Is  not  this  laying  up  treasures  on 
earth  1  and  should  "  moth  corrupt,"  or  "  thieves  break 
through  and  steal,"  my  hoarding  would  be  justly  re- 
buked. I  had  often  thought,  as  the  last  alternative,  of 
selling  everything  for  bread  to  give  the  starving,  that 
could  possibly  be  spared,  without  leaving  myself  in  a 
suffering  state.  This  had  not  been  done,  the  clothes 
were  hoarded,  and  the  virtual  thieves — the  pawnbrokers 
— had  taken  if  not  stolen  them.  This  was  followed  by 
the  startling  passage,  "  If  thine  own  conscience  con- 
demn thee,  God  is  greater  than  thy  conscience,  and 
knoweth  all  things."  Oh  !  what  searching  of  heart  is 
there  contained  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.    Then  again — 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND, 


287 


had  I  by  precept  and  example  presented  Christ,  and  so 
walked  in  Him  that  all  who  saw  me  took  knowledge 
that  I  had  learned  of  Him  1 — had  the  words  of  eternal 
life  been  read  and  explained  in  every  place  where  God 
gave  me  ability  and  opportunity,  as  might  have  been — 
had  I  been  as  faithful  in  rebuking  the  sins  of  the  great, 
where  opportunity  presented,  as  I  had  those  of  the 
mean  and  despised? — had  "a  gift  ever  blinded  my 
eyes,'3  to  lead  me  unjustly  to  favor  the  giver,  and  had 
the  kindly  heartfelt  welcomes  of  the  poor  been  as  grate- 
ful in  some  lowly  mud  cabin,  and  the  humble  invitation 
to  a  dinner  of  potatoes  as  flattering  as  the  polished  sal- 
utations of  the  rich,  with  the  proffered  arm  of  the  mas- 
ter of  the  feast  to  sit  down  to  a  sumptuous  table  with 
honorable  invited  guests?  Had  I  rejoiced  with  "ex- 
ceeding great  joy,"  when  my  name  had  been  cast  out 
as  evil,  when  reviled,  and  all  manner  of  evil  falsely 
said  against  me  ? — had  that  legacy  of  long  standing  and 
sure  title  been  as  salutary  and  as  gratefully  received, 
as  would  have  been  a  bequest  from  the  government,  for 
sacrifices  made  for  the  poor  ?  All  this  and  more  sunk 
deep,  and  remained  long,  when  conscience  arraigned 
me  for  rendering  the  stewardship  of  that  four  years' 
labor.  "  What  hast  thou  done  with  thy  Lord's  mon- 
ey?" Ah!  what  indeed?  Has  a  portion  been  given 
to  u  seven,  and  also  to  eight  ?" — has  the  bread  been 
cast  upon  the  waters ;  and  shall  I  find  it  after  many 
days  ?  To  the  cross  I  flee,  there  let  me  hide — simply, 
simply,  solely  there  I  cling. 

Turning  from  myself,  and  the  retrospect  of  the  past 


288 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


four  years,  the  coming  out  from  Cork,  at  the  last  and 
almost  finishing  touch  of  the  whole,  presented,  Theobald 
Mathew,  with  the  impression  made  on  my  mind,  when 
he  stood  on  the  dock,  by  the  packet,  on  the  Lee,  as  the 
vessel  sailed  away.  His  countenance  is  a  marked  one, 
and  would  be  distinguished  as  such  in  a  crowd  of 
strangers.  But  grief  and  blasted  hopes  have  so  scathed 
his  warm  heart,  that  though  he  retains  that  benignity 
of  expression  so  peculiarly  his  own,  yet  the  pencil  of 
sorrow  has  so  shaded  it,  continued  anxiety  has  so  para- 
lyzed that  hope  which  ever  is,  and  ever  must  be  the 
wellspring  of  the  soul,  that  there  seems  a  trembling 
doubting  in  every  feature,  whether  to  settle  into  a  de- 
sponding passiveness,  or  struggle  to  maintain  that  wont- 
ed complacency  which  has  seemed  an  innate  and  insep- 
arable part  of  his  whole  constitution.  The  scourge 
that  has  laid  waste  his  people  has  withered,  has  scathed 
his  very  soul.  He  stood  "  between  the  living  and  the 
dead,"  like  a  Phineas,  till  the  plague  was  measurably 
stayed,  when,  in  letting  go  his  strained  grasp,  he  found, 
he  felt  that  his  own  hand  had  been  weakened,  and 
though  he  complained  not,  he  saw,  he  knew  that  many 
who  had  cried  "  Hosanna,"  if  they  did  not  say  "  cru- 
cify him,  crucify  him,"  would  turn  away  and  walk  no 
more  with  him.  The  palsy  that  shook  his  body  was  a 
faint  shadow  of  the  palsy  that  withered  the  springs  of 
his  heart,  and  dried  up  the  life-blood  of  his  soul. 
Great  as  was  his  goodness,  and  good  as  was  his  great- 
ness, they  neither  of  them  had  power  to  sustain  a  fabric 
whose  framework  was  gentleness  and  confiding  love. 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  289 

When  the  blast  swept  over  him,  and  he  felt  his  feet 
sliding,  he  reached  out  his  believing  hand  to  the  sup- 
ports he  thought  near  him — they  were  gone  !  It  was 
then  that  the  "  iron  entered  into  his  soul," — it  was 
then  that  he  found  that  love  dies  with  money,  and 
popularity  thrives  best  when  its  hand  is  fullest,  and 
needs  it  the  least ; — it  was  then  that  he  found  experi- 
mentally that  benevolence  must  be  content  with  its  own 
reward,  till  the  "  time  of  the  restitution  of  all  things," 
when  every  man  shall  be  rewarded  according  to  his 
works  ;  and  that  though  he  might  have  given  "  all  his 
goods  to  feed  the  poor,"  his  recompense  in  return  from 
his  fellow  man  might  only  be,  "  Who  hath  required 
this  at  your  hands  V  When  a  man  is  in  trouble  and 
his  feet  are  fast  sliding,  the  prompt  inquiry  is,  "  What 
brought  him  here  ? — Has  he  been  industrious,  has  he 
been  honest,  has  he  been  temperate  V  But  when  lie  is 
in  prosperity,  and  the  tide  of  fortune  flows  smoothry, 
who  inquires  whether  he  honestly,  industrious!}',  or 
soberly  acquired  this  prosperity  ?  Who  stands  aloof 
from  sharing  his  honors,  which  flow  from  his  abundance, 
lest  these  honors  come  from  an  abundance  too  unjustly 
acquired  1  Has  he  robbed  the  poor  and  despoiled  the 
widow  and  fatherless  to  fill  his  granaries  and  decorate 
his  halls  1  Who  has  any  right  to  investigate  that  1 — 
Let  every  man  mind  his  own  business,  is  the  rebuke. 
Theobald  Mathew  was  in  debt — how  came  he  there  ? 
Why  everybody  knew  it  was  not  to  aggrandize  himself ; 
but  he  is  in  debt — he  must  have  been  imprudent  if  not 
dishonest !  True,  he  was,  as  the  world  calls  it,  in 
13 


200 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


debt,  but  virtually  he  owes  no  man  anything — the  world 
never  has,  the  world  never  will,  the  world  never  can  re- 
pay him  ;  his  debt  is  giving  to  the  poor,  when  the  poor 
were  dying,  what  he  then  thought  was  justly  his  own, 
and  justly  tangible  ;  and  that  depravity  is  to  be  pitied 
that  imputes  blame  to  generosity  like  this — a  generosity 
which  seeks  not  its  own,  but  the  good  of  those  that  are 
ready  to  perish.  He  loved  his  country — he  loved  his 
fellow-man  of  every  clime,  and  his  whole  life  has  been 
spent  in  seeking  their  good.  When  he  saw  the  world 
had  misunderstood  him,  then  he  suffered  unutterable 
things  ;  and  the  shock  that  both  body  and  mind  sus- 
tained has  left  an  impress  that  throws  a  constraint  upon 
that  full  freedom  which  his  real  friends  have  been  wont 
to  exercise  toward  him  ;  so  abstracted  does  his  mind  at 
times  appear,  that  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  know 
either  what  chord  to  touch  or  what  time  to  strike  it, 
lest  the  unostentatious  sensibilities  of  his  heart  should 
be  awakened  afresh  to  painful  sensations. 

God  preserve  him,  as  well  as  all  others,  who  live  for 
the  world  and  its  benefit.  The  current  of  man's  heart 
must  run  in  a  different  channel  before  it  can  render  at 
all  times  even  blessing  for  blessing,  and  better  is  he 
treated  than  was  his  Master,  if  the  question  do  not  ap- 
ply to  him  also,  "  Many  good  works  have  I  shown  you  ; 
for  which  of  these  works  do  you  stone  me  V9  The  last 
famine  has  drawn  out  the  true  character  of  the  people 
there,  in  a  light  most  favorable  to  be  understood ;  it 
has  shown  what  is  in  man,  by  a  dissection  of  almost 
every  part  of  his  system,  and  they  never  can  hide  again 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


291 


as  they  have  clone,  and  the  great  pity  is,  that  amid  so 
much  upturning  there  has  been  so  little  cleansing. 
True,  the  pool  has  not  yet  become  quiescent,  nor  the 
sediment  had  time  to  settle ;  and  when  it  shall,  many 
that  were  "  filthy  will  be  filthy  still,"  and  those  that 
were  "righteous  will  be  righteous  still." 

Though  truth  must  and  will  triumph,  judgment  some- 
times long  delays,  and  the  accusations  against  the  na- 
tion of  that  island  have  a  foundation  in  truth,  yet  the 
perverted  judgment  of  men  have  so  misapplied  them, 
that  at  present  the  force  they  contain  falls  almost  pow- 
erless. That  there  is  injustice  there  cannot  be  denied, 
and  this  injustice  has  often  been  exercised  by  those  who 
would  have  been  least  suspected.  The  famine,  in  spite 
of  all  evasions,  has  told  some  singular  tales  of  this. 
The  liberality  of  all  nations  has  been  most  shamefully 
abused  there,  but  the  poor  were  not  in  the  fault,  and 
yet  the  poor  must  and  do  suffer  all  the  sad  conse- 
quences ;  for  now,  while  the  wail  of  woe  and  death  is 
still  going  up  in  many  parts,  the  response  is  neither 
money  nor  bread,  but  "  they  have  been  ungrateful,  they 
have  been  dishonest,  and  we  are  tired  of  hearing  of  Ire- 
land." And  were  I  to  speak  from  honest  conviction  of 
what  passed  there,  in  much  of  the  distributions  belong- 
ing to  government,  and  much  from  other  places,  that 
went  through  paid  hands,  had  it  been  cast  into  the  sea, 
the  fishes  might  have  been  better  benefited  than  were 
the  starving  ;  but  to  private  donors,  and  to  the  churches 
of  England,  and  the  laboring  classes,  who  intrusted 
their  offerings  to  isolated  churches  and  isolated  almoners 


292 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


of  their  gifts,  w  ithout  fee  or  reward,  let  it  be  said,  their 
donations  in  most  cases  were  well  applied,  and  greatly 
blessed.  I  have  known,  and  record  it  with  pleasure, 
that  when  a  church  there,  from  one  here,  was  presented 
with  money,  clothing,  or  food,  the  minister  of  that 
church  would  divide  it  among  such  men  and  women  us 
cheerfully  sought  out  and  supplied  the  most  needy,  with 
the  utmost  integrity.  Many  felt  apparently  that  it 
was  the  Lord's  money  in  very  deed,  and  belonged  to 
the  Lord's  poor,  and  that  they  must  render  a  strict  ac- 
count of  their  stewardship  ;  and  had  one  half  even  that 
the  government  sent  been  withheld,  and  the  other  half 
intrusted  to  such  hands,  as  managed  with  like  discre- 
tion and  honesty,  many  more  lives  would  have  been 
saved,  and  less  complaint  of  ingratitude  been  made. 

It  must  be  seen  that  the  work  was  a  most  arduous 
and  difficult  one,  and  it  takes  much  -less  time  and  trou- 
ble to  sit  quietly  at  home  and  dictate  how  it  should  be 
done,  or  complain  when  it  is  finished  how  badly  it  was 
executed,  than  it  would  to  have  gone  in  person  and  per- 
formed the  task.  It  was  a  hurried  work — the  four 
millions  of  starving  men,  women,  and  children  were 
calling  for  food  to-day,  they  were  calling  in  earnest, 
they  could  not  wait  days,  and  possibly  weeks,  till  the 
honesty  of  a  landlord,  or  the  integrity  of  a  rector,  should 
go  through  the  trial  of  a  jury ;  they  could  not  stand 
round  the  doors  of  a  church  or  chapel,  waiting  the  de- 
cision of  bishops  and  clergymen,  priests  and  monks, 
whether  the  bread  taken  in  commemoration  of  the 
Lord's  death,  were  transformed  into  a  part  or  whole  of 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


293 


his  real  body  or  not,  before  they  could  have  a  piece  of 
it ;  consequently,  what  was  to  be  done  must  be  done 
quickly,  and  in  the  kindly  feelings  which  promptly 
lighted  up,  the  givers  would  naturally  and  properly 
throw  promiscuously  whatever  relief  could  be  gathered 
by  any  hands  that  would  offer.  The  government  of 
England  might  possibly  have  dozed  a  little  too  long, 
regardless  of  what  these  her  thriving  landlords  in  that 
•  green  isle  were  doing  ;  they  might  not  have  precisely 
understood  how  they  were  feeding,  housing,  and  pa}^- 
ing  their  serfs  that  were  squatting  u  lazily"  upon  their 
soil ;  they  might  not  have  applied  the  laws  of  mind 
precisely  to  this  point,  that  these  laws  possess  the  un- 
varying principle  of  fixing  deeply  and  firmly  in  the 
heart  of  the  oppressor  a  hatred  toward  the  being  that 
he  has  unjustly  coerced,  and  the  very  degradation  to 
which  he  has  reduced  him  becomes  the  very  cause  of 
his  aversion  toward  him.  Therefore  such  landlords, 
when  famine  pressed  sorely  upon  their  unpaid  tenants, 
would  necessarily  by  this  law  pity  least,  and  neglect 
most,  those  who  by  accidental  circumstances  might  be 
in  greatest  want.  Those  full-fed,  government-paid  cler- 
gymen, who  had  learned  the  law  of  love  through  her 
own  bread  and  wine  exclusively,  and  whose  jaundiced 
eyes  saw  dark  and  foul  spots  on  all  her  surplices  but 
her  own,  would  be  quick  to  discern  that  the  "  curse 
causeless  does  not  come  and  that  as  the  Roman 
Catholics  embodied  the  majority  of  the  sufferers  in  Ire- 
land, and  the  Roman  Catholics  were  mostly  fed  on  po- 
tatoes, and  as  God  had  blasted  these  potatoes,  there- 


294 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


fore  they  ought  in  humble  acquiescence  to  say,  "  amen !" 
while  the  smoke  of  this  torment  was  ascending,  if  not 
he  willing  co-workers  with  God  in  the  infliction  of  the 
punishment.  When  such  did  give  what  was  intrusted 
to  their  hands,  it  was  not  always  given  "  with  cheer- 
fulness," or  without  what  they  thought  a  merited  re- 
buke. "  Don't  you  see  now,"  said  a  pert  wife  of  a 
curate  of  this  class,  "  don't  you  see  what  your  idolatry 
has  brought  upon  you  f*  handing  a  starving  woman 
tauntingly  a  little  food  ;  "  you've  been  told  that  some- 
thing dreadful  would  come  upon  you  long  before,  but 
you  would  not  believe  ;  now  are  you  ready  to  come  out 
of  that  churcji?"  "  How,"  said  a  bystander,  "could 
you  speak  so  unkindly  to  that  poor  starving  suppliant 
at  your  door  ;  should  you  like  the  same  treatment  un- 
der the  same  circumstances  1"  "  I  should  deserve  it ; 
and  beside,  how  could  I  see  her  die  under  those  awful 
delusions  V9  "  Would  it  not  be  better  to  show  her 
Christ,  and  try  to  direct  her  to  him?"  "Christ! 
ho  ay  can  she  understand  anything  of  him,, while  in  that 
church 

This  is  not  a  fac -simile  of  all  in  the  government 
church,  neither  is  it  an  isolated  case.  Another  in- 
stance only  shall  be  named,  and  it  is  named  as  an  illus- 
tration of  the  spirit  that  was  too  much  in  exercise  there, 
and  how  it  acted  upon  the  sufferers  : — • 

A  poor  man,  with  a  numerous  family,  applied  to  a 
rector  of  the  Established  Church  for  a  portion  of  the 
donations  committed  to  his  care  for  the  parish. 
"  Wliere  do  you  go  to  church  Vx  was  the  question. 


FAMINE   IN   IRELAND.  295 

"  I  am  a  Catholic,"  the  man  answered.  u  Ah,  yes, 
give  your  soul  to  the  priest,  and  come  here  for  me  to 
feed  your  body,  f  go  back,  and  get  your  bread  where 
you  get  your  teaching."  "  This  will  learn  'em,"  said 
the  exulting  sexton  of  the  church,  who  related  the  inci- 
dent, "  this  will  learn  'em  where  they  are."  The  poor 
man  went  away  without  relief,  though  he  belonged  to 
the  parish,  and  had  a  claim.  Turning  them  over  to 
the  priests  was  the  worst  part  of  the  spirit ;  for  the 
priests,  in  the  first  place,  were  not  a  government-paid 
people,  and  in  the  next,  they  had  at  that  time  no  dona- 
tions intrusted  to  them  ;  and  to  tantalize  a  hungry  man 
with  that  retort,  was  like  hanging  him  in  gibbets,  and 
then  telling  him  to  eat  bread. 

Such  treatment  was  calculated  not  only  to  drive  the 
poor  to  all  sorts  of  intrigue,  but  to  make  them  hate  still 
more  a  religion  that  they  always  supposed  to  be  false. 
The  question  which  the  Quaker  put  to  the  rector  could 
well  apply  here,  when  he  remarked  that  no  good  would 
be  done  to  the  Papists  in  Ireland  while  they  rejected  the 
Bible — "  What  good,  friend,  has  thy  Bible  done  thee?" 
Ah,  true ;  what  good  does  it  do  any  who  practice  not 
its  spirit  1  It  is  not  intended  to  imply,  by  these  state- 
ments, that  the  clergy  of  the  Established  Church  in 
Ireland,  during  the  famine,  were  all  bigots,  or  all  hard- 
hearted, and  without  any  true  Christianity ;  but  it  is 
intended  to  say,  that  the  spirit  of  bigotry  and  partiality 
was  there,  and  wherever  manifested,  whether  by  that 
religious  party  or  any  other,  had  a  most  unfavorable 
effect  both  on  the  bodies  and  minds  of  the  suffering. 


290 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


The  government  could  not  control  that,  any  more 
than  a  crazy  inebriate  can  help  doing  what  he  is 
tempted  to  do  ;  but  the  inebriate,  wfcen  he  is  sober, 
should  keep  so,  and  not  put  himself  in  the  power  of  an 
enemy  that  can  injure  him  so  much ;  and  if  the  expe- 
rience of  two  or  three  centuries  in  Ireland  have  not 
proved  that  carnal  weapons  are  not  needed  in  a  church, 
and  that  Christ,  who  should  be  the  head  of  it,  has  no 
occasion  for  them,  surely  they  must  be  dull  learners. 

The  Christian  may  despair  of  conquest  when  kind- 
ness and  love  have  no  effect,  and  in  the  famine,  when 
these  were  exercised,  they  were  felt  and  acknowledged. 
Let  any  stranger,  in  the  year  1850,  go  into  every  parish 
in  that  country,  and  make  investigation  of  the  true 
state  of  feeling,  as  it  would  naturally  flow  out  without 
any  design ;  and  if  that  stranger  made  no  party  allu- 
sions that  should  awaken  jealousy,  he  would  hear  lavish 
blessings  bestowed  on  dissenters  of  every  grade,  where 
these  dissenters  had  manifested  a  kindly  feeling.  "  And 
there's  the  rector  that  would  do  the  heart  good," — 
"  There's  the  blessed  minister,  that's  worth  the  day's 
walk  to  hear  his  discourse," — "  And  would  ye  see  the 
lady  that's  the  blessin'  to  the  poor  ?"  &c.  Do  you 
say  this  is  selfishness'? — it  is  a  just  appreciation  of 
right  and  wrong  ;  and  where  right  is  not  exercised  why 
should  it  be  acknowledged  ?  What  gospel  requires 
that  a  man  should  say  of  an  unjust  neighbor  that  he 
walks  uprightly,  lest  some  evil-eyed  partisan  should 
judge  him  by  his  own  narrow  spirit  ?  And  blinded  as 
the  world  is  by  sin,  and  perverted  as  education  may  be, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


297 


there  are  things  done  which  will  bear  looking  in  the 
face  without  blushing  ;  there  are  things  done  so  well 
that  an  enemy,  however  skillful,  could  not  improve 
them ;  and  there  are  fallen  men  and  women  in  the 
lower  ranks  of  life,  without  any  refinement  of  educa- 
tion, that  can  appreciate  these  well  done  things  and 
even  do  them  too  ;  and  with  all  the  zigzag  movements  in 
the  famine  there  were  some  redeeming  qualities,  there 
were  some  things  carried  on  and  carried  through,  which 
were  not  accused  of  sectarianism,  for  the  simplest  rea- 
son— none  was  manifest. 

The  Society  of  Friends  justly  merit  this  acknowledg- 
ment, and  they  have  it  most  heartily  from  every  por- 
tion of  Ireland.  Not  belonging  to  that  Society,  my 
opportunity  of  testing  the  true  feeling  of  the  poor  was 
a  good  one,  and  when  in  a  school  or  soup-shop,  the  ques- 
tion was  put — Who  feeds  you  1  or,  who  sends  you  these 
clothes'?  the  answer  was  :  "  The  good  Quakers,  lady, 
and  it's  they  that  have  the  religion  entirely."  One 
young  man  seriously  inquired  of  me,  what  sort  of  peo- 
ple they  might  be,  and  if  their  religion  were  like  any 
other,  and  where  they  got  sich,  a  good  one  ;  "By  dad, 
don't  you  think  it's  the  best  in  the  world  V3  It  cer- 
tainly produces  good  works  among  the  poor  of  Ireland, 
was  the  reply.  "  And  where  may  they  say  their  prat- 
ers ?  I  wish  I  could  hear  'em  ;"  or,  "  don't  they  say 
prayers'?"  He  pressed  so  closely,  that  vague  answers 
would  not  avail ;  the  foundation  of  a  faith  which  was  so 
different  from  what  he  had  seen  in  any  people,  as  he  said, 
"  intirelv,"  he  determined  to  make  out  ;  and  finally 


298 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


inquired  if  they  suffered  persons  of  other  faith  to  see 
them  Worship  ;  and  added,  "  I  should  like  to  see  it." 
He  was  directed  to  a  meeting  in  Dublin  which  was 
open  on  that  day,  and  after  getting  all  preliminaries  as 
to  how  he  must  behave,  he  ventured  in. 

The  meeting  was  a  silent  one  ;  he  saw  no  altars,  he 
heard  no  prayers,  and  his  astonishment  at  their  wor- 
ship was  equal  to  his  admiration  of  their  goodness. 
"  And  wasn't  it  quare  they  didn't  spake  !"  "  They 
were  waiting  in  silence  till  they  should  have  something 
given  them  to  speak."  This  increased  the  difficulty, 
and  he  went  away  perfectly  confounded,  wishing  he 
could  know  something  more  about  them,  "  for  they 
must  be  a  blessed  people." 

This  simple-minded  lad  lived  in  a  remote  part 
of  Ireland,  had  never  been  in  a  city  before  ;  and  he 
said  that  he  had  seen  these  good  people  in  the  moun- 
tains giving  alms,  and  "  didn't  they  spake  so  kindly," 
he  added,  "  I  intended  to  see  'em  if  I  could  find  where 
they  stopped."  Simple-minded  youth,  what  could  he 
do  more  1 

Whilst  writing  this,  a  report  has  been  sent  me  of 
the  Birr  Mission,  at  Parsonstown  in  Ireland,  under  the 
superintendence  of  Mr.  Carlisle,  and  I  happily  find  by 
thg  following  extract  this  fresh  proof  of  the  effect  of 
kindness  on  the  hearts  of  the  most  bigoted. 

The  Report  states  :  "  The  medical  coadjutor  of  the 
Mission,  noticed  in  our  last  Report  as  having  been  sent 
to  us  from  Edinburgh,  continues  his  labors  most  assid- 
uously and  most  usefully.    Nothing  has  done  so  much 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


299 


toward  removing  the  prejudices  of  Roman  Catholics 
against  us — even  those  who  formerly  were  most  opposed 
and  most  bigoted — as  his  kind,  unwearied,  and  skillful 
attention  to  the  sick  poor.  It  has  already  opened  the 
way  for  the  word  of  God  to  many  families  from  which 
it  formerly  was  debarred  ;  and  we  observe  that  the  pre- 
judices of  a  class  of  society  above  the  poor,  with  whom 
he  has  no  direct  intercourse  in  the  way  of  his  profession, 
are  giving  way  before  this  kind  and  conciliatory  ap- 
proach to  the  population  generally." 

Were  there  space  in  these  pages,  like  instances 
might  be  multiplied,  and  two  which  come  under  my  no- 
tice were  so  in  point,  that  they  are  entitled  to  a  record 
in  a  better  place. 

A  few  miles  north  of  Dublin,  in  the  winter  of  1847 
and  1848,  a  minister  of  the  Independent  church  was 
sick  for  weeks,  and  his  life  seemed  suspended  in  doubt 
for  some  days.  One  Sabbath,  in  a  chapel,  after  the 
morning  service  was  finished,  the  priest  called  the  at- 
tention of  the  people  to  his  case,  and  added,  "  If  he 
dies,  God  will  take  from  us  one  of  the  best  men  in  the 
country,  and  who  will  fill  his  place  1  All  we  can  do  is 
to  pray  for  him,  and  surely  you  will  all  do  that." 
Voices  were  loud  in  responding,  yes,  yes  ;  and  they 
tarried  another  hour  and  went  through  their  prayers  for 
the  sick.  Now,  as  inefficient  as  these  prayers  might 
be,  they  were  the  legitimate  offspring  of  kindness  and 
goodwill  which  this  minister  had  practiced,  till  he  had 
not  only  removed  prejudice,  but  had  substitute^  like 
feelings  of  kindness. 


300 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


The  second  case  was  that  of  a  good  woman,  who  be- 
longed to  the  Methodist  denomination.  She  had  been 
a  pattern  of  good  works  in  her  neighborhood,  without 
regard  to  party  ;  and  the  poor  loved  her  as  their  long- 
tried  friend.  She  died.  The  priest  of  the  parish  was 
noted  for  his  peace-making  spirit  and  liberality.  The 
Sabbath  after  this  good  woman's  death,  he  concluded 
the  exercises  of  the  day  by  naming  the  circumstance, 
and  saying,  "  When  God  takes  such  good  ones  from 
the  earth  as  this  woman  was,  the  living  have  not  only 
cause  to  mourn,  but  to  tremble,  lest  that  his  anger  has 
gone  out  against  the  inhabitants,  and  He  will  not  suffer 
such  righteous  ones  to  live  among  them." 

In  a  few  weeks  from  this,  that  priest  died,  the  hus- 
band of  the  good  woman  just  named  dropped  an  obit- 
uary notice  in  a  paper  which  he  edited,  mentioning  the 
conciliatory  disposition  of  the  priest,  and  his  exertions 
in  the  parish  to  keep  peace.  A  nephew  of  this  priest 
called  a  few  days  after  and  thanked  the  editor  for  the 
kind  notice,  saying,  "  it  was  more  than  he  could  ex- 
pect." In  two  weeks  from  this  an  obituary  of  the  ne- 
phew was  inserted  in  the  same  paper.  But  mark  the 
effects  of  simply  carrying  out  the  principle  of  Christian 
kindness  !  Was  Christ  dishonored — was  Christ  of- 
fended 1 

PROSELYTISM. 

It  requires  the  Irish  language  to  provide  suitable 
words  for  a  suitable  description  of  the  spirit  which  is 
manirmed  in  some  parts  to  proselyte,  by  bribery,  the 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


301 


obstinate  Romans  to  the  church  which  has  been  her 
instrument  of  oppression  for  centuries.  The  English 
language  is  too  meager  to  delineate  it  in  the  true  light. 
Rice,  Indian  meal,  and  black  bread  would,  if  they  had 
tongues,  tell  sad  and  ludicrous  tales.  The  artless  chil- 
dren too,  who  had  not  become  adepts  in  deceit,  would 
and  did  sometimes  by  chance  tell  the  story,  in  short 
and  pithy  style.  It  was  a  practice  by  some  of  the 
zealous  of  this  class,  to  open  a  school  or  schools,  and 
invite  those  children  who  were  in  deep  want  to  attend, 
and  instruction,  clothes,  and  food  should  be  given,  on 
the  simple  terms  of  reading  the  scriptures  and  attend- 
ing the  church.  The  church  catechism  must  be  re- 
hearsed as  a  substitute  for  the  Romish,  and  though  in 
substance  a  passage  or  two  looked  as  if  the  hoof  of  the 
so-called  "  beast,"  might  have  been  over  it  and  left  a 
modest  track,  yet  by  its  adherents  it  was  thought  to  be 
the  pure  coin.  The  children  'flocked  by  scores  and 
even  hundreds  :  they  were  dying  with  hunger,  and  by 
going  to  these  places  they  could  "  keep  the  life  in  'em," 
and  that  was  what  they  most  needed  ;  they  could  go  on 
the  principle,  "  if  thou  hast  faith,  have  it  to  thyself  be- 
fore God,"  and  when  the  hunger  was  appeased,  and  the 
"  blessed  potato  should  come,  they  could  say  mass  at 
home  again."  When  such  children  were  interrogated, 
the  answer  would  be,  "  We  are  going  back  to  our  own 
chapel  or  our  own  religion,  when  the  stirabout  times 
are  over  or  when  the  <c  bread's  done,"  or  the  "  po- 
tatoes come  again."  "  But  you  are  saying  these  pray- 
ers and  learning  this  catechism."    "  We  shan't  say 


302 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


the  prayers  when  we  go  back — we'll  say  our  own  then," 
&c.  Now  the  more  experienced  father  or  mother 
would  not  have  said  this  to  a  stranger,  and  such  might 
have  passed  for'  a  true  convert,  while  receiving  the 
"  stirabout."  The  priests  were  very  quiet  while  this 
kind  of  bantering  was  in  progress ;  they  knew  its  be- 
ginning, and  by  this  "  concordance  "  could  well  trace 
the  end  ;  they  held  these  favored  ones  of  their  flock  by 
a  cord  while  the  stomach  was  filling,  as  the  traveler  does 
his  steed  that  he  is  watering,  and  turns  "it  away  when 
its  thirst  is  assuaged,  caring  little  at  what  fountain  he 
drinks,  if  the  water  be  wholesome.  u  We  had  as  lief 
they  would  be  in  that  school  as  any,"  said  a  priest, 
"  while  they  are  so  young  ;  we  can  counteract  all  the 
bad  or  wrong  impressions  their  lessons  may  have  had 
on  their  minds." 

The  priests  of  Ireland  have  had  their  wits  well 
sharpened  by  the  constant  check  held  over  them  by 
penal  laws,  and  a  government  church,  and  they  have 
not  been  guilty  of  great  proselyting,  finding  as  much 
work  as  would  keep  them  upon  the  alert,  continually  to 
keep  their  own  hold,  and  the  flock  safe  already  in  pos- 
session. The  Episcopalians  and  Dissenters,  on  the 
other  hand,  knowing  that  they  were  the  minority,  and, 
that  the  power  they  held  was  not  precisely  "  just  and 
equal,"  feared  that  some  new  king  or  minister,  or  some 
sudden  government  squall,  might  blow  down  their  un- 
certain bamboo  fabric,  had  to  double  their  cries  of 
priestcraft  and  popery,  persecutions  and  murders,  to 
keep  their  citadels  of  self-defense  well  secured,  with 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


303 


the  stirring  watchword  of  "  popery  "  ever  stimulating 
the  soldiery  to  ready  action,  in  case  of  insurrection. 
Thus,  as  they  first  preached  Christ  through  bullets, 
bombshells,  and  fire,  so  they  still  hold  him  up  as  the 
u  God  of  battles,"  to  all  who  would  not  receive  him 
through  the  breath  of  their  mouths. 

The  soldiery  stationed  in  Ireland  are  a  living  proof 
of  this  principle,  and  especially  so,  as  this  army  is  re- 
quired to  show  its  warlike  power  in  defense  of  the  mis- 
sionaries stationed  there,  being  called  out  to  display 
their  banners  when  any  new  converts  are  to  be  added 
to  the  Protestant  ranks  from  the  Romish  church.  An 
instance  of  this  'was  related  by  a  coast-guard  officer, 
stationed  in  the  town  of  Dingle.  Some  five  or  six 
years  ago,  a  half-dozen  or  more  of  the  Romans  had  con- 
cluded to  unite  with  the  Protestant  mission  establish- 
ment there,  and  the  Sabbath  that  the  union  was  to  take 
place  in  the  church,  the  soldiery  were  called  out  to 
march  under  arms,  to  protect  this  little  band  from  the 
fearful  persecutions  that  awaited  them  on  their  way 
thither.  The  coast-guard  officer  was  summoned  to  be 
in  readiness  cap  a  pie  for  battle,  if  battle  should  be  ne- 
cessary ;  he  remonstrated — he  was  a  Methodist  by  pro- 
fession, and  though  his  occupation  was  something  war- 
like, yet  he  did  not  see  any  need  of  carnal  weapons  in 
building  up  a  spiritual  church  ;  but  he  was  under  gov- 
ernment pay,  and  must  do  government  work.  He  ac- 
cordingly obeyed,  and,  to  use  his  own  words  substan- 
tially, "  We  marched  in  battle  array,  with  gun  and 
bayonet,  over  a  handful  of  peasantry — a  spectacle"  to 


304 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


angels,  of  our  trust  in  a  crucified  Christ,  and  the  ridi- 
cule and  gratification  of  priests  and  their  flocks,  who 
had  discernment  sufficient  to  see  that  with  all  the 
boasted  pretensions  of  a  purer  faith  and  better  object 
of  worship,  both  were  not  enough  to  shield  our  heads 
against  a  handful  of  turf,  which  might  have  been  thrown 
by  some  ragged  urchin,  with  the  shout  of  6  turncoat '  or 
'  souper,'  as  this  was  the  bribe  which  the  Romanist 
said  was  used  to  turn  the  poor  to  the  church  ;  and 
though  this  was  before  the  potato  famine,  yet  the  vir- 
tues of  soup  were  well  known  then  in  cases  of  hungry 
stomachs,  and  the  Dingle  Mission  had  one  in  boiling 
order  for  all  who  came  to  their  prayers."  The  coast- 
guard continues,  "  We  went  safely  to  the  church,  and 
the  next  Mission  pa,per,  to  my  surprise  and  mortifica- 
tion, told  a  pitying  world  that  so  great  were  the  perse- 
cutions in  Dingle,  that  the  believing  converts  could,  not 
go  to  the  house  of  God  to  profess  their  faith  in  Him, 
without  calling  out  the  soldiery  to  protect  them." 

This  circumstance  is  quite  in  keeping  with  much  of 
what  is  called  persecution  there  ;  and  though  it  cannot 
and  should  not  be  denied,  but  that  in  some  cases,  there 
has  been  great  opposition  and  much  severity  manifested 
by  papists,  toward  those  who  have  left  their  church,  yet 
a  spirit  of  retaliation  will  never  deaden  the  life  of  that 
persecuting  spirit,  nor  bring  any  to  see  the  benefit  of  a 
religion  which  bears  the  same  impress  which  is  stamped 
on  theirs.  These  two  contending  powers  have  had  so 
much  to  do  to  keep,  one  his  own  foot -hold,  and  the 
other  his  flock,  that  little  time  has  been  left  for  preach- 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


305 


ing  Christ,  or  carrying  out  his  gospel ;  and  I  pray  to 
be  forgiven,  if  wrong,  in  saying,  that  in  no  place  what- 
ever, where  Christianity  is  preached,  have  the  sad  ef- 
fects of  a  nominal  one  been  more  fatal.  The  letter 
without  the  spirit  has  shown  emphatically  what  it  can 
do.  It  can  make  men  proud,  covetous,  vainly  puffecl- 
up,  and  it  can  make  them  oppressive  too  ;  it  can  make 
them  feel,  and  it  can  make  them  act  as  did  the  Puri- 
tan, in  the  early  settlement  of  the  New  England  colo- 
nies. "  The  earth,"  he  said,  "  was  the  Lord's,  and 
the  fullness  thereof,  and  what  is  the  Lord's  belongs  to 
the  saints  also,  therefore  they  (Puritans)  had  a  right 
to  drive  out  the  savages  and  take  their  lands  ;"  ac- 
cordingly they  did.  The  same  spirit  is  literally  carried 
out  there  in  the  tithe  gathering  ;  these  "  saints  "  have 
a  claim  on  what  belongs  to  God,  and  consequently  the 
law  covenant  belonging  to  the  Jewish  priest,  under 
Moses,  is  handed  over  to  them,  and  whatever  barba- 
rian, Scythian,  Jebusite  or  Perizzite  dwells  in  the 
land,  must  to  them  pay  tribute.  The  magistrates  who 
collect  this  tribute  sometimes  do  it  in  the  face  of  spades 
and  pitchforks,  and  stockings  full  of  stones,  which  the 
brave  women  hurl ;  but  having  the  "  inner  man  "  well 
Strengthened,  by  both  law  and  government  gospel,  they 
generally  escape  with  the  booty.  These  ludicrous  and 
shameful  scenes  "have  measurably  abated  since  the 
tithes  are  gathered  in  a  form  not  quite  so  tangible,  by 
merging  them  in  or  behind  the  landlord's  tax,  who  puts 
this  ministerial  "  tenth "  into  an  advanced  rent  on 
the  tenant ;  but  "  murder  will  out,"  and  the  blow  is 


800 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


felt  as  severely,  and  by  many  traced  as  clearly,  as 
-when  llie  hand  was  more  tangible.  In  the  summer  of 
1848,  in  the  city  of  Cork,  one  man  belonging  to  the 
Society  of  Friends  had  a  good  set  of  chairs  taken, 
which  the  -owner  affirmed  was  but  a  repetition  of  the 
same  proceedings,  the  Church  collectors  having  a  pecu- 
liar fancy  for  his  chairs  ;  they  had  taken  many  sets  in 
yearly  succession.  Now  while  all  this  is  in  progress  in 
that  country,  talk  not  so  loudly  of  popish  heresy  being 
the  root  of  all  the  evil  there.  First,  make  the  gospel 
tree,  which  was  planted  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  on 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  bear  a  little  fruit,  pluck  a  few 
fresh  boughs  from  its  neglected  branches,  and  kindly 
present  them  to  these  popish  seared  consciences,  and 
see  and  mark  well  the  result.  If  the  book  called  the 
Bible  had  been  kept  entirely  out  of  sight,  and  its  prin- 
ciples been  fully  exemplified  in  deed  as  well  as  in  word, 
there  can  scarcely  be  a  doubt,  but  the  prejudice  which 
now  exists  against  it  would  never  have  been  known  ; 
and  had  the  priests  thundered  their  anathemas  either 
from  the  confession  box  or  the  altar,  louder  and  longer 
against  reading  or  believing  it,  many  of  them  would 
have  defied  all  bulls  of  excommunication,  as  well  as  all 
purgatorial  burnings,  and  have  made  their  acquaintance 
with  its  pages.  When  any  of  these  extortions  are 
practiced,  the  ready  response  is,  "  This  comes  from  the 
blessed  book  they're  tachin'  and  prachin'."  It  is  the 
substance  that  is  wanting,  not  the  shadow.  If  popery 
have  concealed  Christ  behind  the  Virgin,  with  her  long 
retinue  of  sainted  fathers  and  maids  of  honor,  in  the 


FAMINE   IX  IRELAND. 


30T 


persons  of  St.  Bridgets,  whose  microscopic  eves  can  see 
him  any  clearer  through  mitred  bishops  and  surpliced 
gownsmen,  fattened  on  the  gatherings  of  the  harvests 
of  the  poor,  and  scanty  savings  of  the  widow  and  fa- 
therless. If  the  incense  from  a  Roman  censer  obscure 
the  clear  light  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  think  not 
to  blow  it  away  by  the  breath  of  alcohol,  their  smoke 
will  only  mingle  together,  and  make  the  cloud  still 
.thicker.  Some  paste  more  adhesive  than  "  stirabout," 
and  some  stimulus  more  abiding  than  "  soup,"  will  be 
required  to  keep  the  scrutinizing  Paddy  rooted  and 
grounded  in  a  new  faith,  whose  fresh  lessons  are  only, 
M  Be  patient,  love,  while  I  beat  you,  in  true  genteel 
and  c royal  style.'"  The  Celt  can  quickly  discern 
clean  hands  ;  and  though  his  own  may  be  filthy,  yet  he 
will  content  himself  with  the  "  holy  water  "  of  his  own 
church  to  cleanse  them,  while  he  sees  his  neighbor's  of 
the  Protestant  faith  a  little  too  smutty. 

While  speaking  thus  of  proselytism,  and  the  errors 
of  the  church,  the  soup-shops  should  not  be  cast  into 
entire  contempt ;  for  though  they  may,  and  undoubt- 
edly have  been,  used  for  bribery  there,  yet  they  have 
been  used  for  better  purposes,  and  by  the  Protestant 
church  too.  The  missionary  stations  in  Dingle  and 
Achill,  so  far  as  they  adhered  to  their  professed  object 
in  the  beginning,  which  was  partly  to  provide  a  retreat 
from  persecution,  and  give  labor  as  far  as  it  was  prac- 
ticable to  those  who  wished  to  renounce  popery,  did 
well.  But  have  they  acted  entirely  in  accordance  with 
these  principles  1    Let  the  fruits  be  the  judges.  That 


308 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


there  are  real  God-fearing  Christians  in  those  churches 
must  be  believed,  but  this  is  not  the  question.  Were 
most  of  them  made  so  by  going  there,  or  had  they  not 
been  taught  of  the  Holy  Spirit  before  entering  them? 
The  heaven-taught  Christian  in  Ireland  in  many  places 
is  driven  to  great  straits  to  find  a  fold  where  the  flock 
are  fed  with  the  true  bread,  prepared  by  those  who 
have  really  come  out  of  the  world,  and  they  necessarily 
unite  with  any,  where  they  can  find  a  home.  The, 
Roman  Catholic  who  turns  to  Cod  with  full  purpose  of 
heart,  and  has  been  really  born  of  the  Spirit,  is  indeed 
a  spiritual  Christian  ;  he  drinks  deeply  at  the  Foun- 
tain-head, and  often  exceeds  those  who  had  been  in  the 
path  with  the  Scriptures  in  their  hands  for  years. .  One 
Presbyterian  clergyman  observed,  "  we  must  take  large 
strides  to  keep  up  with  them." 

I  am  not  expecting,  neither  asking  one  pound  of 
money,  one  good  dinner,  nor  one  blessing,  for  these 
unsavory  statements,  but  they  are  the  common  sense 
observation  of  four  years'  practical  experience  among 
that  strangely  situated  people,  who  have  been  the 
gazing-stock  of  the  world  for  so  many  ages  ;  and  though 
the  remark  of  a  Roman  Catholic  barrister  in  the  coun- 
ty of  Mayo,  to  his  priest,  was  somewhat  severe,  yet  it 
might  be  well  for  the  clergy  of  all  denominations  to 
look  at  it,  and  inquire  whether  they  have  not  given 
cause  for  the  people  to  feel,  that  the  benefits  which 
have  flowed  from  their  ministrations  are  not  on  the 
whole  a  poor  equivalent  for  the  money  which  has  been 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


309 


paid  to  them,  and  for  the  honor  which  has  been  be- 
stowed upon  their  reverences. 

This  barrister  observed  that  his  occupation  had  led 
him  to  an  acquaintance  with  the  doings  of  the  clergy  of 
every  denomination  in  Ireland  ;  and  he  had  settled  on 
the  firm  belief,  that  if  every  one  of  all  classes,  Priests, 
Protestants,  and  Dissenters,  were  put  into  a  ship  and 
driven  out  to  sea,  and  the  ship  scuttled,  it  would  be 
better  for  Ireland  than  it  then  was.  "  Leave  every 
man,"  he  added,  "  to  take  care  of  his  own  soul,  with- 
out being  led  hither  and  thither,  by  men  who  worked 
either  for  money  or  party,  or  for  both,  and  they  would 
be  in  a  better  condition  than  they  were  at  present." 
The  confounded  priest  uttered  not  one  syllable  in  re- 
ply. It  is  somewhat  amusing  to  a  listener,  who  be- 
longs to  no  one  of  them,  to  be  present  on  any  annual 
celebration  of  these  clergymen,  and  hear  the  reforma- 
tions going  on  under  their  management. 

The  Established  Church  astonishes  you  with  confir- 
mations and  the  increase  of  communicants,  and  if  the 
speaker  be  a  missionary,  why  a  few  thousand  pounds 
would  bring  half  of  popish  Ireland  into  his  net — could 
he  build  more  cottages  and  dig  more  drains,  mountain 
and  bog  for  many  a  mile  would  be  blossoming  like  the 
rose,  and  crooked  things  be  made  straight  among  the 
benighted  Catholics,  and  Ireland  in  the  Lord's  time  be 
a  habitation  for  the  righteous  to  dwell  in.  The  num- 
ber of  converts  from  popery  astonishes  the  credulous 
hearers,  and  the  self-denials  and  persecutions  of  the 
missionaries  are  second  to  none  but  Peter's  or  Paul's. 


310 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


Next  come  the  Presbyterians.  They  are  a  numer- 
ous, well-disciplined  band,  understanding  precisely  the 
tactics  of  their  creed,  and  give  you  to  understand  that 
they  arc  the  true  light  that  might  lighten  every  man 
that  comcth  into  Ireland.  They  have  lengthened  their 
cords  and  strengthened  their  stakes  ;  and  while  many 
3Tet  desire  the  cc  leeks  and  girlies"  growing  in  a  gov- 
ernment hot-house,  yet  some  have  nobly  testified 
against  making  a  hodge-podge  church  of  Christ  and 
Mammon.  They  are  not  idlers,  and  their  Sabbath- 
schools  train  their  children  in  the  true  faith  of  Prcsby- 
terianism,  as  faithfully  as  docs  the  Romish  priest  in 
his.  They,  like  the  Established  Church,  feel  that  the 
mammoth  incubus  that  is  weighing  the  godly  of  Ireland 
down,  is  the  Romish  Church,  and  though  they  acknowl- 
edge that  a  state  church  is  not  precisely  the  best  thing, 
yet  that  is  not  the  mountain,  but  yet  would  gladly  have 
it  removed,  if  by  rooting  up  these  tares  the  wheat 
should  not  be  rooted  up  also ;  for  if  government  should 
let  go  its  hold,  and  say,  "  Stand  on  your  own  founda- 
tion, or  stand  not  at  all,"  they  might  be  shaken  in  the 
fearful  crash.  The  regium  donum  still  lingers  there, 
and  if  tithes  should  slip,  why  not  draw  after  them  this 
"  royal  gift  V\  Many  are  good  preachers  and  eloquent 
platform  speakers  ;  some  have  advanced  into  the  free 
air  of  anti-slavery  principles,  and  an  isolated  one,  here 
and  there,  may  not  approve  of  the  practice  of  war ; 
but  few  comparatively  have  abandoned  the  use  of  the 
good  creature,  in  moderation,  and  doubtless  they  are 
fated  to  see  more  and  suffer  more,  and  dig  deeper  into 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


311 


their  own  hearts  before  they  will  believe,  but  that 
"  wisdom  will  die  with  them." 

The  Methodists  have  a  standing  in  numbers  among 
the  ranks  of  Bible-Christians,  and  their  zeal  has  pro- 
voked many.  They  pray  on,  and  they  'sing  on,  through 
thick  and  through  thin ;  they  tell  you  that  Methodism 
is  the  only  salvo,  and  can  never  praise  God  enough 
that  they  stepped  into  her  ranks.  John  Wesley  echoes 
and  re-echoes  with  loud  aniens,  wherever  there  is  a 
chapel  to  eulogize  his  name.  They  too  abhor  the 
"  beast,"  and  have  blunted,  if  not  plucked,  some  of 
his  horns  ;  but  not  being  quite  so  orthodox  in  the  eyes 
of  their  more  Calvinistic  brethren,  they  go  more  on 
their  "  own  hook,"  working  in  their  own  way,  t&an  the 
two  first  named.  Though  it  is  to  be  feared  they  are 
drinking  in  and  conforming  more  to  the  world  than  for- 
merly, yet  they  keep  well  in  their  own  ranks,  and  let 
the  world  rock  to  and  fro,  their  motto  is  onward  ;  they 
are  not  so  prone  to  seek  shelter  from  a  storm  in  time  of 
trouble  ;  and  to  run  over  to  the  enemy  till  the  danger 
is  over,  as  some  who  are  more  in  search  of  popularity, 
more  timid  and  less  self-denying.  They  are  so  un- 
doubting  in  the  truth  of  what  they  profess,  that  they 
spend  less  time  in  securing  props  to  keep  up  their  fab- 
ric ;  and  consequently,  they  have  more  space  for  preach- 
ing Christ.  Those  Catholics  who  are  not  afraid  of  en- 
tering into  any  chapel  but  their  own,  are  fond  of  listen- 
ing to  the  enthusiastic  manner  of  preaching  which  they 
find  there,  and  are  often  seen  standing  about  the  doors 
of  a  chapel,  with  great  reverence  ;  occasionally  some 


312 


ANNALS   OF  THE 


arc  drawn  in  by  the  gospel,  and  remain  faithful  to 
Christ. 

The  Independents  are  a  -worthy  class,  and  have  un- 
ostentatiously made  a  good  impression  on  the  minds  of 
the  humbler  portion  of  the  inhabitants.  Their  Bible 
readers  have  in  general  been  men  of  untiring  faithful- 
ness, and  by  kindness  have  gained  access  to  the  hearts 
of  the  peasantry,  mho  listen  to  the  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, without  that  opposition  which  must  follow  where 
a  harsh  course  and  abuse  to  the  priests  are  manifested. 
One  of  their  readers  remarked,  that  for  more  than 
twenty  years  he  had  visited  the  cabins,  read  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  held  up  Christ  to  them  as  the  sinner's 
friend,  #nd  in  no  one  case  had  he  been  rejected.  Some 
of  them  speak  and  read  Irish,  which  always  gains  ac- 
cess to  the  heart.  The  Independents  in  respect  to  gov- 
ernment aid,  reject  all  regium  donums,  and  they  stand 
on  a  firmer  rock  than  an  earthly  royal  treasure.  They 
have  funds  gratuitously  supplied  by  their  own  church, 
and  their  missionaries  and  Bible  readers  are  mostly  sup- 
ported by  them.  Their  pastors  are  men  in  general  of 
plain  common-sense,  knowing  how  to  adapt  themselves 
and  their  preaching  to  .the  masses  ;  and  had  they  more 
of  a  proselyting  spirit,  would  certainly  make  more 
noise,  more  money,  and  add  more  stony-ground  hearers 
to  their  number. 

The  Baptists,  humble  in  number  as  they  are,  should 
not  be  left  out ;  they  make  their  way  slowly  and  softly, 
and  show  much  patience  in  laboring  in  the  destitute 
parts.    Their  flocks  are  increasing,  and  like  the  station 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


313 


at  Ballina,  many  of  their  number  are  from  the  Romish 
church.  These,  when  they  put  on  Christ  by  a  new  bap- 
tism, as  they  call  immersion,  the  burial  with  him  into 
his  death,  arise  and  walk  in  newness  of  life,  and  in 
general  remain  steadfast  in  their  profession.  It  is  a 
fact,  which  should  be  more  noticed  -among  all  these  de- 
nominations, that  where  Christ  is  the  most  faithfully 
preached,  error  falls  silenced,  without  that  struggle  of 
argument  to  maintain  its  hold,  as  when  some  object 
of  contempt  is  held  up  to  ridicule,  or  to  shun  ;  all  the 
enemy's  forces  are  then  rallied  to  the  rescue,  and  often 
the  conqueror  in 'argument  is  the  force  most  weakened 
in  the  best  part. 

The  Plymouth  brethren,  or  Bible-Christians  as  they 
may  call  themselves,  have  a  numerous  body  in  Dublin, 
and  worship  Christ  in  a  manner  distinct  from  either 
which  have  been  named.  Acknowledging  no  head  but 
Christ,  they  have  no  ministers  to  support,  and  like  the 
Apostles'  churches,  have  all  things  in  common  so  far  as 
this — as  when  one  member  suffers,  ail  suffer  with  it ; 
and  accordingly  none  are  left  in  want.  They  were  very 
active  in  the  famine,  working  efficiently,  feeding  and 
clothing  many  ;  and  the  Sabbath-school  in  which  Christ 
and  only  Christ  was  taught,  was  numerously  attended 
by  the  poor,  who  were  fed  and  clothed,  not  as  a  bribe, 
but  as  an  act  of  Christian  charity,  due  to  the  poor. 
"  Come,  and  we  will  tell  you  of  Christ,"  was  the  invita- 
tion, and  not  come  and  join  us,  and  we  will  feed  you. 

The  Unitarians  in  Ireland  are  not  numerous,  but 
generally  wealthy,  intelligent,  and  benevolent.  They 
14 


314 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


did  much  in  the  famine  to  ameliorate  the  state  of  suffer- 
ing, and  to  their  honor  they  were  many  of  them  teeto- 
talers. Their  doctrine  to  the  Catholic  is  more  incom- 
prehensible than  any  of  the  u  heresies  "  which  they 
meet ;  for  beside  rejecting  the  Mother,  they  say  they 
reject  the  Son  likewise,  and  have  neither  Intercessor 
nor  Savior  ;  and  if  they  were  disposed  to  proselyte,  the 
Catholic  chapels  would  not  be  the  "  shops  w  in  which 
to  set  up  their  "  stirabout  boilers."  The  Roman  Ca- 
tholics are  peculiarly  distinct  in  one  noble  practice, 
from  all  other  professed  Christians  we  meet.  They 
will  not  in  the  least  gape  after,  nor  succumb  to  any 
man's  religion,  because  he  is  great  and  honorable, 
though  they  will  crouch  and  call  him  "  yer  honor  "  in 
matters  of  this  world  ;  but  where  their  religious  faith  is 
concerned,  they  call  no  man  master.  The  Unitarians, 
therefore,  collect  into  their  ranks  such  as,  being  whole, 
need  no  physician,  and  the  lamentation  or  confession 
seldom  goes  up  of  being  u  miserable  sinners  "  and  going 
u  astray  like  lost  sheep."  They  are  certainly  a  people 
in  their  influence  over  others,  especially  the  lower 
classes,  less  to  be  dreaded  than  those  who  "  hold  the 
truth  in  unrighteousness."  The  heresy  of  needing  no 
atonement  by  an  infinite  God,  is  more  shunned  than 
sought  after,  by  all  such  as  have  been  led  to  believe 
that  man  is  in  a  lost  state  ;  for  if  he  is  lost,  and  finds 
himself  so,  he  seeks  to  be  found  ;  but  if  no  one  is  in 
the  way  sufficient  to  lead  him,  how  is  he  bettered  by  the 
inquiry  1  On  the  other  side,  those  who  hold  the  truth 
in  unrighteousness,  in  other  words,  who  bear  no  fruit, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


315 


have  not  the  power  of  it,  and  when  the  letter  only  is 
understood,  he  who  professes  Christ  and  knows  him  not 
in  a  fellowship  of  his  sufferings,  and  a  resurrection  of 
life,  is  a  more  dangerous  lure  to  the  inquirer  ;  for,  in 
the  first  case,  if  there  is  no  Savior  all  powerful,  there  is 
nothing  to  embrace  ;  but  if  there  is  one  in  word  and 
not  in  deed,  he  is  more  to  be  dread^  than  none  at  all, 
a  false  God  is  worse  than  none. 

There  is  a  society  of  Moravians,  and  it  would  be 
superfluous  to  say  anything  of  them,  they  are  so  well 
known  for  their  simplicity,  sobriety,  retirement,  and 
good  order,  that  they  walk  more  unseen  than  any  de- 
nomination whatever.  They  never  say,  "  Come  and 
see  my  zeal  for  the  Lord."  The  Roman  Catholics  look 
upon  them  somewhat  as  they  do  upon  the  Society  of 
Friends — a  second  "  blessed  people,"  wondering  what 
the  religion  must  be. 

The  Society  of  Friends  in  Ireland,  stand  out  as  they 
do  in  other  places,  distinct.  They  meddle  but  little  in 
the  politics  of  the  world  around  them ;  whatever  gov- 
ernment they  may  be  under,  they  sit  quietly  and  let 
the  world  rock  on.  A  Yearly  Meeting  of  that  denom- 
ination is  more  interesting  in  Ireland  than  elsewhere, 
on  one  account,  because  they  are  entirely  free  from  vain 
boasting  and  whining  tales  of  persecution,  or  the  great 
growth  of  their  denomination,  the  downfall  of  error  be- 
fore their  preaching,  &c.  You  have  solemn  silence,  or 
you  have  something  uttered  unvarnished  with  rhetorical 
flourishes  or  borrowed  extracts  from  House  of  Commons 
or  House  of  Lords.    Their  extracts  are  borrowed  from 


316 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


the  Holy  Scriptures,  tlieir  prayers  are  addressed  to  the 
Majesty  of  Heaven,  and  not  to  men,  they  speak'  as  if 
in  his  presence,  and  sit  as  if  in  his  presence,  and  if  you 
are  not  particularly  edified,  you  are  solemnized,  your 
heart  if  not  melted  is  softened,  and  you  go  away  feel- 
ing, that  for  an  hour  or  more  you  have  been  shut  from 
a  noisy,  empty,  ^tbbling  world,  from  a  party  church 
which  has  not  stimulated  you  to  kill  any  priest,  or  pull 
down  any  chapel  or  convent.  You  feel  to  inquire,  am 
I  right  ?  Is  all  well  within  ?  Have  I  the  Spirit  of 
Christ  1  if  not,  I  am  none  of  his.  I  have  never  heard 
that  any  Roman  Catholic  has  ever  turned  to  that  So- 
ciety in  Ireland  ;  but  if  they  had  proselyting  agents  in 
the  field  they  would  have  their  share,  or  if  they  had 
even  that  outward  show  in  their  meeting-houses,  which 
takes  away  all  reserve  from  the  stranger,  and  gives  him 
to  feel  that  the  place  is  for  all,  many  would  be  induced 
to  go  in,  that  now  stay  away. 

When  stopping  in  Cork,  great  surprise  was  expressed, 
even  by  some  dissenters,  that  I  should  take  such  liber- 
ties as  to  go  to  a  place  of  worship  where  none  were 
wished  to  attend  but  their  own  ;  and  the  Catholics  sup- 
posed that  none  could  be  allowed  to  enter,  but  such  as 
have  on  the  u  particular  dress."  The  caution  of  these 
people  in  the  time  of  famine,  to  avoid  the  appearance 
of  proselyting,  was  carried  to  an  extent  almost  unparal- 
leled. It  was  said  that  a  ministering  Friend  from  Eng- 
land, who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  attending  or  holding 
a  meeting  in  the  west  part  of  Ireland  wdicn  he  visited 
them,  declined  doing  so,  in  the  year  1847,  when  in  the 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


31T 


same  place,  lest  it  should  be  construed  as  a  desire  to 
make  converts  by  the  liberality  which  his  Society  were 
showing. 

The  Catholics  in  Ireland  are  the  Catholics  every- 
where in  some  respects ;  in  others  they  may  have  some 
shades  of  difference.  Having  always  been  placed  under 
restrictions,  they  could  not  always  appear  free  ;  and  yet 
when  these  restrictions  have  been  removed  they  have 
not  taken  undue  advantage,  as  their  enemies  supposed 
they  would.  The  removal  of  the  penal  laws  did  not 
make  them  insolent,  but  thankful  that  they  again  had 
the  prospect  of  being  ranked  among  the  human  family 
as  human  beings.  That  cord  of  fear  by  which  they 
have  been  so  long  held  is  loosening,  and  they  take  liber- 
ties, that  at  times  cause  the  priest  to  say  that  they 
are  quite  beyond  his  control,  and  he  is  often  put  down 
at  the  altar — that  most  sacred  place,  when  he  lays  re- 
strictions which  are  not  congenial.  Their  superstitions 
too  are  fast  vanishing  ;  fairies  and  banshees  have  not 
*  the  hold  on  the  imagination  as  in  former  days  ;  the 
holy  wells,  and  bushes  covered  with  rags  and  strings 
which  had  been  dipped  in  the  waters,  to  wash  the  be- 
lieving diseased  one,  are  now  disappearing.  This 
practice  is  not  confined  to  the  Catholics,  either  in 
Ireland  or  England,  being  practiced  in  the  latter 
place  to  some  extent  now ;  but  there  is  still  a  most 
fearful  practice  in  the  west  part  of  Ireland,  which  a 
priest  related  in  my  hearing,  and  comforted  our  horror  • 
by  saying,  that  he  had  caned  the  man  most  faithfully 
that  morning,  and  it  would  never  be  repeated.  The 


318 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


practice  has  been  in  use  for  ages,  and  is  called  the 
"  Test  of  the  Skull."  It  is  this, — when  a  person  is 
suspected  of  crime  he  is  placed  kneeling,  and  made  to 
swear  over  the  Bible  that  he  is  innocent,  and  then  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  the  skull,  he  invokes  heaven  that  the 
sins  of  the  person  that  owned  that  skull  in  life,  with 
those  of  the  seventh  generations  before  and  after  him, 
might  be  visited  on  his  head  if  he  were  guilty,  and  if 
this  swearing  was  false,  the  skull  was  to  haunt  him  in- 
cessantly day  and  night,  to  the  end  of  his  life.  This 
horrid  practice  is  so  loudly  spoken  against,  that  it  is 
performed  with  the  greatest  secrecy  when  it  is  done. 
It  has  extorted  many  a  confession  that  nothing  else 
would  do,  and  is  found  a  very  useful  experiment  in  in- 
corrigible cases.  The  skull  used  is  always  the  skull  of 
the  father,  if  the  father  be  dead,  which  makes  it  mere 
terrific  to  the  suspected  one. 

Superstitions  of  these  kinds  are  prevalent  more  upon 
the  sea-coasts  and  in  the  mountains,  where  the  inhabit- 
ants are  secluded  from  much  intercourse  ;  and  sitting 
in  their  dark  cabins,  or  climbing  the  crags  upon  the 
lofty  mountains  or  cliffs  hanging  over  the  sea,  they  hear 
the  constant  roar  of  old  ocean,  or  the  hollow  groaning  of 
the  wind,  as  it  winds  through  the  defiles  and  caves  ; 
and  having  no  intelligent  intercourse  and  no  books,  they 
conjure  up  all  that  imagination  is  capable  of  doing,  and 
when  it  is  conjured  up  and  brought  a  few  times  before 
♦he  mind,  it  is  reality  which  is  difficult  to  efface.  Their 
fairy  superstitions  are  not  frightful,  and  go  to  show  a 
very  poetic  turn,  of  which  the  mind  of  the  Celt  is  quite 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


319 


capable.  Fairies  are  always  pretty,  "  light  on  the  fut," 
and  light  on  the  wing,  are  pleasant  and  playful,  par- 
ticularly fond  of  children  and  babies,  and  often  ex- 
change them  when  the  mother  is  gone  or  asleep,  and 
many  times  she  never  knows  the  difference  ;  frequently 
she  has  been  heard  to  complain  that  a  sicklier  child  has 
been  put  in  her  child's  place,  and  sometimes  blue  eyes 
have  been  exchanged  for  gray.  They  never  like  to  dis- 
please one  of  these  gentry,  lest  she  should  be  disposed 
to  kill  or  injure  the  child.  I  found  these  ideas  still 
lingering  among  the  mountains*,  where  some  of  them 
would  not  be  willing  to  leave  off  red  petticoats,  because 
they  kept  the  fairies  from  doing  any  little  mischief 
which  otherwise  they  might  do.  The  "  Angel's  Whis- 
per," too,  has  a  foundation  in  real  truth.  It  has  long 
been  supposed  that  a  sleeping  infant  hear?  some  pleas- 
ant thing  whispered  in  its  ear  by  the  ministering  angel 
that  is  always  hovering  near  ;  and  it  is  noticeable  that 
the  superstitions  of  the  peasantry  are  more  poetical 
than  frightful,  and  they  generally  turn  all  supernatural 
appearances  to  a  favorable  account.  But  the  famine 
changed  their  poetical  romance  into  such  fearful  reali- 
ties that  no  time  was  left  to  bestow  on  imagination. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


"  Shall  I  see  thee  no  more,  thou  lov'd  land  of  sorrow  V> 
LAST  LOOK  OF  IRELAND,   AND  THE   SUMMING  UP. 

The  time  had  come  when  the  last  long  adieu  must 
be  taken  of  a  people  and  country,  -where  four  years  and 
four  months  had  been  passed,  and  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  put  the  last  penciling  upon  a  picture  like  this, 
and  not  pause  before  laying  it  aside,  and  look  again  at 
its  "  Lights  and  Shades  "  as  a  whole.  In  doing  so,  the 
task  is  more  painful  than  was  the  first  labor, — First, 
because  these  "  Lights  and  Shades "  are  imperfectly 
drawn ;  and  second,  because  no  future  touch  of  the 
artist,  however  badly  executed,  can  be  put  on  ;  what  is 
"  written  "  is  "  written,"  and  what  is  done  is  done  for- 
ever. My  feet  shall  never  again  make  their  untried 
way  through  some  dark  glen,  or  wade  through  a  miry 
bog,  or  climb  some  slippery  crag  to  reach  the  isolated 
mud  cabin,  and  hear  the  kind  "  God  save  ye  kindly, 
lady ;  come  in,  come  in,  ye  must  be  wairy."  Never 
again  can  the  sweet  words  of  eternal  life  be  read  to  the 
listening  way-side  peasant,  when  he  is  breaking  stones, 
or  walking  by  the  way  ;  never  will  the  potato  be  shared 
with  the  family  group  around  the  basket,  or  the  bundle 


THE  FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


321 


of  straw  be  unbound  and  spread  for  my  couch.  Never 
will  the  nominal  professor,  who  learned  his  Christ 
through  respectability,  without  even  the  shadow  of  a 
cross,  again  coolly  say,  "  We  do  not  understand  your 
object,  and  do  yo^go  into  the  miserable  cabins  among 
the  lower  order  and  never,  oh  never  !  again  will  the 
ghastly  stare  of  the  starving  idiot  meet  me  upon  the 
lonely  mountains  I  have  trod  ;  never  again  will  the 
emaciated  fingers  of  a  starving  child  be  linked  in  sup7 
plication  for  a."  bit  of  bread,"  as  I  pass  in  the  busy 
street ;  though  the  painful  visions  will  forever  haunt 
me,  yet  the  privilege  to  relieve  will  never  again  be  mine 
m  that  land  of  sorrow.  It  is  over.  Have  I  acted 
plainly  ? — have  I  spoken  plainly  ? — have  I  written 
plainly?  This  is  all  right, — for  this  no  apology  is 
made.  But  have  all  these  plain  actions,  plain  speak- 
ings, and  plain  writings,  been  performed  with  an  eye 
single  to  the  glory  of  God  ?  If  so,  all  is  as  it  should 
be  ;  if  not,  "  Mene,  Tekel  "  must  be  written. 

These  pages  speak  plainly  of  Clergymen,  of  Land- 
lords, of  Relief  Officers,  of  the  waste  of  distributions, 
and  of  Drinking  Habits.  Are  these  things  so  ?  Glad 
should  I  be  to  know,  that  in  all  these  statements  a 
wrong  judgment  has  been  formed,  and  that  they  have 
been  and  are  misrepresented.  Yes,  let  me  be  proved 
even  a  prejudiced  writer,  an  unjust  writer,  a  partial 
writer,  rather  than  that  these  things  shall  be  living, 
acting  truths.  But  alas  !  Ireland  tells  her  own  story, 
and  every  stranger  reads  it. 

The  landlords  have  a  heavy  burden,  and  if  the  bur- 
14* 


322 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


den  cannot  be  removed,  it  is  right  that  they  should  be 
heard.  Even  if  by  their  own  neglect  or  unskillfulness 
they  are  now  where  they  feel  the  wave  rolling  over 
them,  anl  this  wave  is  like  to  swallow  them  entirely, 
what  philanthropist  would  not  throw  ^ut  the  life-boat 
and  take  them  to  land  ?  If  they  are  not  good  steers- 
men, then  place  them  not  again  at  the  helm  ;  if  they 
neither  understand  the  laws  of  navigation,  nor  the  du- 
ties of  captains  to  the  crew,  assign  them  a  place  where 
with  less  power  they  can  act  without  injuring  the  help- 
less, till  they  learn  lessons  of  wisdom  from  past  ages 
of  recklessness  and  thoughtless  improvidence.  And 
while  God  says,  "  What  measure  ye  mete  shall  be 
measured  to  you  again,"  yet  who  shall  presume  to  deal 
out  this  promise,  nor  let  one  retaliating  lisp  be  encour- 
aged to  clothe  the  oppressive  or  careless  landlord  in 
like  rags  that  his  tenants  have  worn.  Give  him  a  se- 
cond coat,  and  though  his  hands  may  not  be  adorned 
with  rings,  yet  dress  him  in  clean  garments,  and  put 
shoes  upon  his  feet.  If  you  give  him  not  the  "  fatted 
'calf,"  yet  feed  him  not  on  the  one  root  which  his 
scanty  pay  has  compelled  the  sower  and  reaper  of  his 
fields  to  eat,  strip  him  not  of  the  last  vestige  his  habi- 
tation may  possess  of  decency  and  comfort,  and  shut 
him  not  in  the  walls  of  a  workhouse,  to  lie  down  and 
rise  up,  go  out  and  come  in,  at  some  surly  master's  bid- 
ding. Lot  him  walk  among  men,  as  a  man  breathing 
free  air  on  God's  free  earth  that  he  has  freely  "  given 
to  the  children  of  men."  Say  not  to  him,  when  you 
see  that  his  day  has  already  come,  "  Ah !  I  told  you 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


323 


so."  Conscience,  if  he  have  any,  will  tell  him  that, 
and  if  he  have  not  any,  you  cannot  furnish  him  with 
one.  There  are  landlords  in"  Ireland  who  have  measur- 
ably rendered  what  is  "  just  and  equal,"  if  not  wholly 
so.  There  are  Crawfords  and  Hills,  who  have  done 
nobly  and  outlived  the  storm,  and  there  are  many 
others,  who  like  them  have  acted  well,  but  could  not, 
and  have  not  outlived  it.  In  one  crumbling  mass, 
they  and  their  tenants  are  looking  in  despair  on  each 
other  without  cause  or  disposition  to  recriminate,  and 
when  they  part,  it  is  like  the  separation  of  kindly 
members  of  one  family,  united  by  one  common  interest. 
These  are  some  of  the  bright  spots,  green  and  fresh, 
which  still  look  out  upon  that  stricken  country,  and 
leave  a  little  hope  that  lingering  mercy  may  yet  return 
and  bless  her  with  the  blessing  that  adds  no  sorrow. 
"~The  minister,  too — shall  his  sacred  name  and  calling 
be  on  the  tongue  and  pen  of  every  wayfaring  traveler 
who  may  chance  to  pass  through  his  parish,  and  tarry 
but  for  a  night — who  may  hear  but  a  passing  sermon, 
and  that  a  good  one,  too,  and  hasten  away  and  denounce 
him  as  a*hireling  or  unfaithful  ?  Let  candor,  courtesy 
and  Christianity  forbid  it ! 

The  watchmen  on  Ireland's  wall  have  had  a  stormy, 
bleak  night  to  guard  the  city,  and  amid  the  roar  of  tu- 
multuous tempests  have  scarcely  known  how  to  guide  or 
to  warn  the  lost  traveler  into  a  safe  shelter — they  may 
have  seen  danger  through  a  false  glare — they  ntay  have 
warned  when  no  danger  was  nigh,  and  they  may  have 
wrapped  their  robes  about  them,  and  hid  from  an  enemy 


324 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


"when  they  were  the  only  leaders  that  could  have  led  to 
victory.  Some  have  split  on  the  fatal  rock — love  of 
gain  ;  others  are  insnared  by  the  deceitful,  flattering 
word,  "  respectability."  This  above  all  others  seems 
to  be  the  hobby  ;  nor  is  it  confined  to  the  Established 
Church  :  they  as  a  body  are  so  well  paid  and  honored, 
that  they  have  less  need  to  keep  up  a  struggle  respect- 
ing the  name,  as  most  of  them  (the  curates  excepted) 
can  and  do  hang  out  the  indisputable  sign — a  carriage, 
and  its  accompaniments ;  and  if  the  character  of  such 
an  one  be  inquired  after,  however  he  may  live,  and  how 
far  removed  from  the  vital  principles  of  the  gospel  he 
may  be,  if  not  among  .the  vilest,  "  Oh  !  he  is  very  re- 
spectable ;  if  you  should  see  his  gardens,  and  grounds, 
and  carriage,  and  then  his  glebe-house,  and  his  wife 
and  daughters — they're  the  ladies."  The  dissenting 
classes,  who  profess  by  their  very  dissenting,  that  they 
believe  more  fully  that  the  regenerating  spirit  of  the 
gospel  calls  for  newness  of  life,  and  nonconformity  to 
the  world  ;  yet  to  induce  the  world  to  follow  them,  to 
become  members  of  their  body,  they  must  throw  out 
the  bait  of  "  respectability,"  to  keep  up  an  influence 
which  conformity  to  the  world  alone  can  do  ;  that  part 
of  the  legacy  which  Christ  left,  they  acknowledge  is  a 
good  one  when  applied  to  real  mart}rrdom.  When  the 
disciples  were  told  that  if  they  hated  me,  they  will 
hate  you  also,  and  that  they  must  "  rejoice  and  be  ex- 
ceeding glad,"  when  all  manner  of  evil  should  be  said 
of  them,  for  his  sake ;  but  for  disciples  in  the  nine- 
teenth century  the  constitution  of  things  is  changed, 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


325 


and  as  a  "  good  name,"  the  wise  man  tells  us,  "  is  bet- 
ter than  precious  ointment,"  this  "good  name"  must 
be  obtained,  even  though  a  few  circumstantials  in  the 
Christian  creed  should  be  modestly  suspended.  This 
"  good  name  "  is  the  last  thing  that  the  professed  Chris- 
tian will  laave  in  the  hands  of  Christ ;  he  wMB  intrust 
him  often  with  his  property,  his  indefatigable  labors, 
and  even  life  itself ;  but  his  reputation,  ah  !  his  repu- 
tation is  too  sacred  to  go  out  of  his  hands  ;  and  mark  ! 
this  reputation  is  one  acquired  according  to  the  customs 
of  the  world.  Here  is  the  fatal  split,  here  it  is,  where 
he  who  purchases  this  article,  purchases  at  the  expense 
of  that  vitality,  and  indwelling  principle  of  holiness, 
which,  if  nurtured  and  kept  alive,  by  walking  in  the 
liberty  of  Christ,  will  go  on  from  one  degree  of  grace 
and  glory,  till  the  perfect  man  in  Christ  is  attained. 

The  dissenting  Christians  of  Ireland,  many  of  them, 
are  wealthy  enough  to  be  respectable  ;  and  though  they 
are  not  in  general  as  high  as  their  u  Established  "• 
brethren ;  yet  those  who  have  a  regium  donum  can 
figure  somewhat  genteelly,  and  if  they  do  not  attain  to 
the  highest  notch  they  do  what  they  can  ;  if  they  can- 
not keep  a  coach  and  four,  they  would  not  be  inclined 
to  ride  meek  and  lowly,  as  their  Master  did  through  the 
streets  of  Jerusalem,  and  will  get  the  best  carriage 
their  means  will  allow. 

Now  respectability  is  not  to  be  despised  ;  but  seeking 
it  at  the  expense  of  that  humility,  that  condescending 
to  men  of  low  estate,  that  not  only  giving  to  the  poor, 
but  doing  for  the  poor,  and  doing  too  at  the  expense  of 


326 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


our  own  ease,  and  in  face  and  eyes  of  the  customs  of  a 
God-hating  world,  is  rcprehensihlc,  and  wholly  and  en- 
tirely aside  from  the  precepts  and  examples  of  Christ 
and  his  followers  ;  and  though  to  the  blameworthy  this 
may  appear  severe,  because  true,  yet  I  cannot  be  a 
faithfu^ccorder  of  what  I  saw  and  experienced  in  Ire- 
land, without  leaving  this  testimony,  which  I  expect  to 
meet  at  the  judgment,  that  a  proud,  worldly,  respectable 
Christianity  is  the  first  great  deep  evil  that  keeps  that 
country  in  a  virtual  bondage,  from  which  she  never  will 
escape,  till  the  evil  be  removed.    The  awful  gulf  which 
is  placed  between  the  higher  and  the  "  lower  orders  " 
there,  is  as  great  between  professed  Christians  and  the 
world,  as  between  the  estated  gentleman  or  titled  lord, 
who  makes  no  pretensions,  and  in  many  cases  much 
greater.    There  are  lords,  sirs,  and  esquires  in  Ireland, 
who  would  sooner  admit  a  bare-foot  into  their  back-door 
and  hear  his  tale  of  woe,  than  would  many  of  the  dis- 
senting classes,  of  so-called  followers  of  the  meek  and 
lowly  Jesus.    Why  is  it  so  %    Simply  this,  not  because 
these  lords  and  gentlemen  were  Christians,  but  because 
they  were  not  in  danger  of  losing  a  standing  which  a 
worldly  government  had  given  them,  by  so  doing,  while 
the  dissenter^  a  step  lower  in  worldly  honor,  without 
sufficient  vital  piety  to  fall  back  upon,  must  keep  the 
respectable  standing  that  he  had,  or  he  was  lost  forever. 
And  before  closing  these  pages,  duty  requires  to  correct 
statements  which  have  been  made  by  many  of  the  mis- 
judging class  of  Irish  who  read  the  first  volume,  and 
have  said  that  I  had  no  opportunity  to  give  a  true  ac- 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND. 


327 


count  of  the  character  of  the  people*  there,  because  I 
mingled  with  none  but  the  lower  classes — I  give  the  fol- 
lowing illustrations  : — This  is  a  mistake  wholly  and  en- 
tirely.   I  did  not  make  long  visits  with  the  higher  or- 
ders except  in  few  cases,  not  because  I  was  not  treated 
with  all  the  courtesy  and  attention  that  vanity  would 
require  by  some  of  these,  but  because  my  message  was 
to  the  poor  ;  and  the  attentions  of  the  great  were  not 
recorded  for  many  reasons,  among  which,  some  of  the 
most  prominent  are,  that  many,  such  persons  do  not 
wish  to  read  their  names  on  the  random  pages  of  an  un- 
pretending tourist,  or  a  vain  smattering  one ;  and  if 
their  vanity  could  be  fed  the  greater  caution  should  be 
used  to  withhold  flattery,  for  they  are  in  no  need  of 
compliments;  and  beside,  they  have  only  done  what 
they  could  easily  do  without  sacrifice,  and  are  required 
by  the  common  claims  of  civility  to  strangers,  as  well  as 
by  the  higher  requirements  of  the  gospel,  to  do.  And, 
again,  what  traveler  who  has  whirled  through  that 
island  on  a  coach,  and  who,  in  his  own  country  was 
scarcely  known,  be3Toncl  his  humble  seat  in  the  church 
or  chapel  where  he  was  wont  to  sit,  but  has  carefully 
wrapped  a  complimentary  card,  given  by  a  titled  gen- 
tleman, to  a  dinner,  to  show  to  his  family  to  the  third, 
and  probably  fourth  generation,  of  the  great  honor  be- 
stowed on  him.    And  in  conclusion,  on  this  part  of  the 
subject,  let  it  be  said,  that  access  was  gained  to  every 
class  of  people  in  Ireland,  some  by  "  hook  and  by 
crook,"  and  others  by  an  "  abundant  entrance, 77  and 
by  a  greater  part  of  them  was  I  treated  with  more  cour- 


328 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


tesy  than  by  those  a  notch  or  two  below,  in  worldly 
standing. 

The  old  hackneyed  story  of  popery  in  Ireland  has 
been  so  turned  and  twisted  that  every  side  has  been 
seen — nothing  new  can  be  said  about  it.  There  it 
stands,  its  principles  are  well  known,  its  superstitions 
and  persecuting  character,  its  idolatries,  and  all  its 
trimming  and  trappings,  are  the  same  in  essence,  as 
when  Queen  Elizabeth  put  her  anathemas  forth  against 
its  creeds  and  practice  ;  and  with  all  her  errors  she 
maintains  a  few  principles  and  practices  which  it  would 
be  well  for  her  more  Bible  neighbors  to  imitate.  Her 
great  ones  are  more  accessible  ;  the  poor  of  their  own 
class,  or  of  any  other,  are  not  kept  at  such  an  awful 
distance  ;  the  stranger  is  seldom  frowned  coolly  from 
their  door ;  to  them  there  appears  to  be  a  sacredness 
in  the  very  word  with  which  they  would  not  trifle  ;  the 
question  is  not,  is  he  or  she  "  respectable,"  but  a  stran- 
ger ;  if  so,  then  hospitality  must  be  used  without  grudg- 
ing. In  the  mountains,  and  sea-coast  parts,  it  has  ever 
been  the  custom  to  set  the  cabin  door  open  at  night,  and 
keep  up  a  fire  on  the  hearth,  that  the  way-faring  man, 
and  the  lone  stranger,  should  he  be  benighted,  could  see 
by  the  light  that  there  is  welcome  for  him,  and  if  they 
have  but  one  bed,  the  family  get  up  and  give  it  to  the 
stranger,  sitting  up,  and  having  the  fire  kept  bright 
through  the  night.  This  has  been  done  for  me,  with- 
out knowing  or  asking  whether  I  was  Turk  or  Christian  ; 
and  were  I  again  to  walk  over  that  country,  and  be  out 
at  nightfall  in  storm  or  peril,  as  has  been  my  lot,  and 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


329 


come  in  sight  of  two  castle-towers,  one  a  Roman  and  the 
other  a  Protestant  owner  ;  and  were  the  former  a  mile 
beyond,  my  difficult  way  would  be  made  to  that,  know- 
ing that  when  the  porter  should  tell  the  master  a  stran- 
ger was  at  the  gate,  he  would  say,  "  Welcome  the 
stranger  in  for  the  night,  or  from  the  storm."  The 
Protestant  might  do  the  same,  but  there  would  be  a 
doubt.  His  answer  would  probably  be,  "  A  stranger  ! 
How  comes  a  stranger  here  at  this  late  hour  ?  tell  him 
we  do  not  admit  persons  into  our  house  unless  we  know 
them."  Christian  reader,  this  is  one  strong  reason  why 
you  should  admit  them,  because  you  do  not  know  them. 
The  Catholics  are  much  more  humble  in  their  demeanor, 
and  certainly  much  more  hospitable  and  obliging  in  all 
respects,  as  a  people.  They  are  more  self-denying, 
will  sacrifice  their  own  comforts  for  the  afflicted,  more 
readily  will  they  attend  their  places  of  worship,  clothed 
or  unclothed,  and  beggars  take  as  high  a  place  often  in 
the  chapel,  as  the  rich  man  ;  the  "  gold  ring  and  costly 
apparel,"  is  not  honored  here,  as  in  the  Protestant  and 
dissenting  churches  ;  and  it  is  remarked  that  when  any 
turn  to  the  Protestant  faith,  they  never  lose  that  con- 
descension, nor  put  on  those  pretences  of  worldly  re- 
spectability, as  their  Protestant  brethren  do. 

A  little  for  the  Relief  Officers  at  parting.  To  those 
who  have  been  intrusted  with  money  for  the  poor,  and 
have  been  bountifully  paid  for  the  care  of  the  loan  put 
in  your  hands,  if  you  have  done  by  the  starving  poor,  as 
you  would  that  they  should  do  unto  you  in  like  circum- 
stances— if  you  have  given  the  same  quality  and  quan- 


330 


ANNALS   OF  JHE 


tity  of  bread,  that  you  should  be  willing  to  receive  and 
eat — if  you  have  never  sent  a  starving  one  empty  away, 
when  you  had  it  by  you,  because  ease  would  be  dis- 
turbed— if  dinners  and  toasts  have  not  drained  any 
money  that  -belonged  to  the  poor,  then  u  well  done,  good 
and  faithful  servant and  if  you  have  may  you  be  for- 
given, and  never  be  left  "  to  feel  the  hunger.-  ?  My  lot 
was  to  be  once,  in  a  house  where  a  sumptuous  feast  was 
held  among  this  class  of  laborers,  and  that  was  in  the 
midst  of  desolation  and  death.  They  "  tarried,"  to 
speak  modestly,  "a  little  too  long  at  the  wine  "  that 
night,  and  drank  toasts,  wThieh,  if  they  honored  the 
Queen,  did  little  credit  to  men  in  their  station,  and  in 
their  responsible  work.  But  I  have  seen  and  handled 
the  "  black  bread  "  for  months,  and  have  told  the  story. 
I  have  seen  many  sent  from  the  relief,  on  days  of  giving 
it  out,  without  a  mouthful,  and  have  not  a  doubt .  but 
many  died  in  consequence  of  this,  when  they  should  and 
might  have  been  fed.  Time  will  not  allow  of  dwelling 
on  these  cases  ;  but  one  which  was  vividly  impressed, 
and  particularly  marked  at  the  time,  may  serve  as  a 
specimen.  Going  out  one  cold  day  in  a  bleak  waste  on 
the  coast,  I  met  a  pitiful  old  man  in  hunger  and  tatters, 
with  a  child  on  his  back,  almost  entirely  naked,  and  to 
appearance  in  the  last  stages  of  starvation  ;  whether  his 
naked  legs  had  been  scratched,  or  whether  the  cold  had 
affected  them  I  knew  not,  but  the  blood  was  in  small 
streams  in  different  places,  and  the  sight  was  a  horrid 
one.  The  old  man  was  interrogated,  why  he  took  such 
an  object  into  sight,  upon  the  street,  when  he  answered 


FAMINE  IN   IRELAND.  331 

that  he  lived  seven  miles  off,  and  was  afraid  the  child 
would  die  in  the  cabin,  with  two  little  children  he  had 
left  starving,  and  he  had  come  to  get  the  bit  of  meal, 
as  it  was  the  day  he  heard  that  the  relief  was  giving 
out.  The  officer  told  him  he  had  not  time  to  enter  his 
name  on  the  book,  and  he  was  sent  away  in  that  condi- 
tion ;  a  penny  or  two  was  given  him,  for  which  he  ex- 
pressed the  greatest  gratitude  ;  this  was  on  Wednesday 
or  Thursday.  The  case  was  mentioned  to  the  officer, 
and  he  entreated  not  to  send  such  objects  away,  espe- 
cially when  the  distance  was  so  great. 

The  next  Saturday,  on  my  way  from  the  house  where 
the  relieving-officer  was  stationed,  we  saw  an  old  man 
creeping  slowly  in  a  bending  posture  upon  the  road,  and 
the  boy  was  asked  to  stop  the  car.  The  same  old  man 
looked  up  and  recognized  me.  I  did  not  know  him, 
but  his  overwhelming  thanks  for  the  little  that  was 
given  him  that  day,  called  to  mind  the  circumstance ; 
and,  inquiring  where  the  child  was,  he  said  the  three 
were  left  in  the  cabin,  and  had  not  taken  a  "  sup  nor 
a  bit"  since  yesterday  morning,  and  he  was  afraid 
some  of  them  would  be  dead  upon  the  hearth  when  he 
returned.  The  relieving-officer  had  told  him  to  come 
on  Saturday,  and  his  name  should  be  on  the  book,  he 
had  waited  without  scarcely  eating  a  mouthful  till  then, 
and  was  so  weak  he  could  not  carry  the  child,  and  had 
crept  the  seven  miles  to  get  the  meal,  and  was' sent 
away  with  a  promise  to  wait  till  the  next  Tuesday,  and 
come  and  have  his  name  on  the  books.  This  poor  man 
had  not  a  penny  nor  a  mouthful  of  food,  and  he  said 


332  ANNALS  OF  THE 

• 

tremulously,  "  I  must  go  home  and  die  on  the  hairth 
with  the  hungry  ones."  The  mother  had  starved  to 
death.  He  was  given  money  to  purchase  seven  pounds 
of  meal ;  he  clasped  his  old  emaciated  hands,  first  fell 
upon  his  knees,  looked  up  to  heaven  and  thanked  the 
good  God,  then  me,  when  the  boy  was  so  struck  with 
his  glaring  eyes,  and  painful  looks,  that  he  turned 
aside  and  said,  "  let  us  get  away."  The  old  man  kept 
on  his  knees,  walking  on  them,  pausing  and  looking  up 
to  heaven  ;  and  thinking  myself  that  seven  pounds 
would  not  keep  four  scarcely  in  existence  till  Tuesday, 
we  stopped  till  he  came  upon  his  knees  to  the  car  ;  he 
was  given  money  enough  to  purchase  as  much  more  ; 
when,  for  a  few  moments,  I  feared  that  he  would  die  on 
the  path..  His  age,  exhaustion  by  hunger,  and  the  feel- 
ings of  a  father,  together  with  the  sudden  change,  from 
despair  to  hope,  all  were  so  powerful,  that  with  his 
hands  clasped,  clinching  the  pennies,  and  standing  up- 
on his  knees,  he  fell  upon  his  face,  and  for  some  time 
remained  there  ;  he  was  finally  restored  to  his  knees, 
and  the  last  glimpse  we  had  of  this  picture  of  living 
death,  he  was  behind  us  on  the  path,  descending  a  hill 
upon  his  knees.  What  his  destiny  was,  I  never  knew  ; 
but  the  relieving-ofiicer  expressed  no  feelings  of  com- 
punction when  told  of  it  some  time  after,  nor  did  he 
know  whether  he  had  applied  again.  If  he  died,  what 
then?  was  the  answer.  This  solitary  case  is  only  a 
specimen  of,  to  say  the  least,  hundreds,  who  might  have 
been  saved,  had  these  stewards  applied  the  funds  where 
most  needed.    Those  who  were  obliged  to  walk  miles, 


FAMINE   IN  IRELAND. 


333 


and  lie  out  over  night  upon  the  highway-side,  were 
sent  back  to  come  again,  while  those  who  lived  nearest, 
had  the  most  strength,  and  could  clamor  the  loudest 
for  their  rights,  were  soonest  supplied.  This  relieving 
officer  was  an  Irishman,  and  though  among  some  of 
these  there  was  gseat  compassion  and  long  continued, 
yet  as  a  whole  the  English  were  much  more  so ;  and 
had  they,  without  being  advised  or  influenced  in  the 
least  by  the  Irish  landlords  and  Irish  relieving-officers, 
taken  their  own  course,  much  better  management  of 
funds  and  better  management  for  the  suffering  would 
have  followed.  The  English  were  unused  to  such 
sights  as  Ireland  in  her  best  times  presents,  besides 
they  never  had  oppressed  these  poor  ones,  while  the 
rich,  powerful  Irish,  like  our  slaveholders  in  the  United 
States,  had  long  held  them  writhing  in  their  grasp, 
some  of  them  beside  had  been  too  lavish,  their  means 
for  sporting  and  pleasure  were  lessening,  and  why  not 
take  their  share  of  what  they  wanted,  while  it  was  in 
their  hands  1  The  English  officers,  entirely  unac- 
quainted even  with  the  location  of  distressed  districts, 
till,  for  the  first  time,  their  eyes  were  saluted  with 
these  frightful  sights,  would  certainly  be  led  to  apply 
means,  when  and  where  more  experienced  ones  should 
direct.  The  Irish  landlords  too,  had  another  strong 
temptation.  They  had  many  comfortable  farmers,  who 
till  the  famine,  had  not  only  paid  them  good  rent,  but 
had  turned  the  worst  soil  into  beautiful  fields.  They 
must  either  abide  on  the  land  and  pay  less  rent,  or 
none  at  all,  till  the  famine  ceased,  or  they  must  emi- 


334 


ANNALS  OF  THE 


grate.  Now  a  few  hundred  pounds  would  keep  these 
tenants  on  their  feet,  and  pay  the  landlord.  And  if 
these  landlords  had  not  before  been  influenced  by  the 
grace  of  God  to  do  justice,  it  cannot  be  expected  in  this 
peculiar  crisis  they  should  suddenly  be  transformed  to 
act  so  against  their  own  worldly  geod.  Who  would 
trust  a  dog  with  his  dinner  if  the  dog  be  hungry  ?  These 
are  not  random  strokes  made  to  finish  a  book,  nor  to 
gratify  a  splenetic  sourness — particular  prejudices  have 
not  been  the  spring  of  motion  in  this  work ;  but  being 
flung  into  all  and  every  position,  how  could  I  but  see  all 
and  everything  that  fell  in  my  way  ?  In  the  worst  dis- 
tricts my  tarry  was  generally  the  longest,  and  in  some 
cases  I  literally  carried  out  the  precept,  "  Into  whatever 
house  ye  enter  there  abide  and  thence  depart,"  where 
the  most  information  could  be  gained,  and  the  family 
who  invited  me  were  able  to  supply  all  needful  things, 
and  had  urged  the  visit,  however  protracted  it  might 
be  ;  and  in  the  face  and  eyes  of  all  sincerity  on  their 
part,  they  had  been  taken  at  their  word,  and  though 
the  blarney  grew  thinner  and  weaker,  yet  I  had  long 
since  accustomed  my  palate  to  bread  without  butter  or 
honey,  and  potatoes  without  gravy  or  salt. 

Ireland  possesses  an  ingredient  in  her  composition, 
beyond  all  other  nations — an  elasticity  of  such  strength, 
that  however  weighty  the  depressing  power  may  be,  she 
returns  to  her  level  with  greater  velocity  than  any  peo- 
ple whatever,  when  the  force  is  removed.  Then  arise 
to  her  help  ;  let  every  Protestant  and  Dissenter  put  on 
the  whole  armor;  let  them  together  cast  tithes  and 


FAMINE  IN  IRELAND.  385 

regium  donums  "  to  the  moles  and  to  the  bats,"  and 
stand  out  in  the  whole  panoply  of  the  gospel ;  then  in- 
deed will  they  appear  "  terrible  as  an  army  with  ban- 
ners let  their  worldly  respectability  be  laid  aside  for 
the  "  honor  that  comes  from  God ;"  let  them  do  as 
Christ  did,  "  condescend  to  men  of  low  estate."  Who 
can  tell,  if  the  professed  church  of  Christ  of  all  denomi- 
nations should  do  her  first  work  there,  but  that  a  loop- 
hole would  be  made,  through  which  government  might 
look  beyond  the  dark  cloud  that  has  covered  her  reign 
over  that  island,  and  joyfully  say,  "  Live,  for  I  have 
found  a  ranfom  !"  For  though  government  now  holds 
the  church  in  her  hands,-  could  she  do  so  if  the  church 
was  moved  by  an  Almighty  power  ?  God  now  suffers, 
but  does  he  propel  1  Is  not  the  machinery  of  the 
church  there  one  of  the  "  sought-out  inventions,"  which 
never  emanated  from  the  uprightness  of  God  1  See  to 
it,  see  to  it,  and  then  talk  with  success  of  the  idolatries 
of  popery. 

The  dark  night  had  come,  my  trunk  was  packed,  and 
the  vessel  was  in  readiness  that  was  to  bear  me  away. 
When  I  entered  that  pretty  isle  in  June,  1844,  all  was 
green  and  sunny  without,  water,  earth,  and  sky  all 
united  to  say  this  is  indeed  a  pleasant  spot,  but  why  I 
had  come  to  it  I  knew  not,  and  what  was  my  work  had 
not  been  told  me ;  step  by  step  the  voice  had  been 
"  onward,"  trust  and  obey — obey  and  trust.  The 
ground  had  been  traversed,  and  in  tempest  and  dark- 
ness my  way  was  made  to  the  packet,  on  the  Liffey, 
with  one  solitary  Quaker,  who  was  compelled  to  hurry 


336 


ANNALS  OF  THE  FAMINE. 


me  among  the  tumultuous  crowd  without  time  to  say 
"  Farewell."  A  few  friends  had  assembled  to  meet 
me  there,  who  had  been  tried  ones  from  the  beginning, 
but  so  great  was  the  crowd,  and  so  dark  was  the  night, 
that  they  found  me  not. 

The  spires  of  Dublin  could  not  be  seen,  and  I  was 
glad — I  was  glad  that  no  warm  hands  could  greet  me  ; 
and  above  all  and  over  all,  I  was  glad  that  the  poor 
could  not  find  me ;  for  them  I  had  labored,  and  their 
blessing  was  mine,  that  was  a  rich  reward ;  and  when 
my  heart  shall  cease  to  feel  for  their  sufferings  may  my 
"  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth."  # 

"THEY  THAT   SOW   IN  TEARS   SHALL   REAP   IN  JOY." 

"  Sow  thy  seed,  there  is  need,  never  be  weary, 
Morning  and  evening  withhold  not  thine  hand; 
By  the  side  of  all  waters  let  faith  and  hope  cheer  thee, 
Where  the  blessing  may  rest  is  not  thine  to  command. 

u  Do  thy  best,  leave  the  rest,  while  the  day  serveth — 
Night  will  assuredly  overtake  noon ; 
Work  with  thy  brother,  while  he  thine  arm  nerveth, 
Without  him,  or  for  him,  if  holding  back  soon. 

"  As  the  grain,  oft  in  pain,  doubt,  care,  and  sadness, 
The  husbandman  needs  must  commit  to  the  soil, 
Long  to  struggle  with  darkness  and  death,  if  in  gladness 
He  may  hope  e'er  to  reap  the  new  harvest  from  toil. 

"  Sow  thy  seed,  there  is  need,  never  mind  sorrow, 

Disappointment  is  not  what  it  seems  to  thee  now  ; 
Tears,  if  but  touched  by  one  heavenly  ray,  borrow 
A  glory  that  spans  all, — the  bright  promised  bow !'; 


3  9031  01210060  8 


OES  NOT  CIRCULATE 


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